


For Love

by DillyDilly45



Category: alucard - Fandom, 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2019-08-22 04:32:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 48,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16590917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DillyDilly45/pseuds/DillyDilly45
Summary: i know i know i should be finishing other stories first but this has been in my head and i had to get it out. and i am totally in love with some alucard. this is based on the netflix series and i am taking liberties certain characters so don't get judgey. if it gets a good reception i might keep it going





	1. Chapter 1

His footsteps echoed through the dimly lit corridors that were lined with rows and rows of books. This was where he preferred to spend the majority of his time. Wandering the columns and levels of the Belmont Family Hold. Perusing the stories and literature of the enemies of his ancestors.

But then he was half human, therefore it could not be a complete betrayal.

In truth it was easier for him to be here rather than … up there. Here everything was unfamiliar, strange. Nothing pulled at him like hooks in his core, dragging his pain to the surface again and again while he fought tooth and nail to hold it down.

The castle had become too much for him to bear at times. Walking the long lonely hallways of his childhood, the memories still haunted him. His mother’s laughter and soothing voice, his father’s strong arms and over powering presence. In his dreams his mother would enter his rooms at night, kneeling beside him with a gentle brush of lips across his forehead and warm fingers caressing his cheeks as she whispered good night to her most loved child. His father would stand in the doorway, never speaking but he knew he was there. He always knew he was there.

And then he would wake to the cold silent emptiness of his room and start all over, the ghosts of his memories trailing in his wake.

It was like a vice on his heart; the loneliness. It held with just enough pressure to cause a dull constant pain, but never enough to end him. It ate at him slowly everyday just a little bit more, killing what was once his inner light and replacing it with a darkness that begins to overshadow every moment; squeezing out every bit of life he has circulating throughout his opaque veins.

Enough to torture but never enough to kill, at least not quickly.

It would eat him alive, eventually. He knew it to be true. It would swallow every little ounce of hope he once had, feasting on the little remnants of happiness he has left till there is nothing but an empty carcass; full of despair and memories he just cannot seem to hold onto anymore. He could no longer remember what it was like to be in a warm embrace or to have a shoulder to cry upon. To be trapped in cold with no hope for warmth and yet to be imprisoned in unbearable heat. It was an awful paradox.

The loneliness was all he knew now. His most constant companion and adversary. A beast whose cold fingertips traced his soul and then abandoned him.

But this monster was perhaps the most terrifying of all he had faced, for it was one he had absolutely no power over.

And so like a coward, he selfishly hid within these catacombs, with its endless rows of books and artifacts. There were times when he even considered making a small Keep from the remaining foundations of the old Belmont estate. But those were just flights of fancy. Strange temporary periods of hope that would sometimes bubble to the surface only to burst and dissipate just as quickly. Much like when he thought of the only two people he had ever even come close to calling companions. The closest he had ever come to having friends. Had circumstances been different they would have been enemies. Perhaps even of tried to kill him. Well, at least one of them would have. But the circumstances had been what they were, and so they had stood side by side. They fought and bled together. United in one bloody cause for humanity. He could not have done it without them, and they without him. At times he even wished they would have remained.

Well, at least one of them.

And so now he only returned to the castle only when absolutely necessary. And unfortunately, there have been several times when it was indeed necessary.

He had set up wards and spells around the castle to warn him of intruders. The occasional curious mortal would wander through at times. Some simple curiosity seekers, others seeking to plunder the seemingly abandoned castles stores. Whether the intent was innocent or ill, they were all easily dispatched, usually frightened off by the castles own natural defenses.

It was the times when the unwanted visitors were not human that caused the real problems. Problems that were becoming more frequent as of late.

With his father gone there was a huge gaping hole within the immortal hierarchy. A hole that many an ambitious vampire would seek to fill. And what better start at making a claim at that title than conquering the old lord’s castle. What better declaration than killing the unwilling heir apparent that waged war on his own kind.

He had made his intentions known from the beginning. It had started with the messengers from some of the minor regional rulers. He had no one but himself to blame for that. He had been in the earliest throes of his sorrow then and had killed them on site. He did not wish to rule. He did not wish to have anything to do with anyone. They were greedy petty little creatures, scurrying around seeking to grasp on any thread of power. Well, it would not be found with him. And anyone seeking to gain aid or power from him or the works with in the castle would be dispatched post haste. The message got out rather quickly after that.

It was then that other tactics were used.

Creatures began to appear in the night then. Whether they were monsters left from Dracula’s horde or created from another, he was not certain. Rumors had reached him about some queen in Styria who seeks to claim dominion. It was even said that she may even have a Forgemaster at her disposal. He did not give a damn if she sought to rule. She could have the damn title as far as he was concerned. As long as she left him and his alone. But if the rumors of the Forgemaster was true, then something may have to be done. The last thing anyone needed were those monsters unleashed upon the populace again.

The whole thing was becoming quite tedious.

The sound of a thunderous gong rang throughout the library, rattling the shelves and stirring the dust among the books. A ward within the castle going off. He sighed and pulled himself from his reverie. It would seem there were to be more unwanted visitors this night. Quite tedious indeed. With a quick flick of hand his sword launched from the coffin that sat in the shadows and slid smoothly into its scabbard.

Moving faster than the human mind could even comprehend, Alucard appeared before great doors of the castle and braced himself to face his demons once again.

 

* * *

  **~oOo~**

It was moments like these when she knew what it must feel like to be undead. She was just some mindless zombie coming off of a twelve hour shift trying to make her way home. It was exhausting to say the least. And then she was on call for the night. Sometimes it just never seemed to end. Sonia adjusted her bag on her lap as she allowed herself to be lulled by the rocking of the trolley. Her eyelids felt as if they were being dragged down against her will. Well maybe not completely against her will.

She had been in residency at University Med for around four months now. She had only been in New Orleans for about six. The city was a mess. The hospitals still did not seem to have ever fully recovered from Hurricane Katrina. The health professionals had returned of course. But there was still struggle in the city. And it showed within the hospitals. That was why she wanted to come here. So that she could feel that she was accomplishing something as she learned. And she loved the city. She had even had a small apartment on Dauphine Street. It had character and history and these amazing brick wall accents. So worth it. She wanted nothing more than to be there right now, curled up in her bed. Unfortunately, it was going to have to wait. At least for a bit longer.

She watched the blur of lights fly past out of the window. The street lights of the Garden District flickering slowly on in the twilight. It would be dark by the time she finally got home, but she had promised. Her landlord lived here and wanted her to stop by. If she had not also been Sonia’s aunt she would have blown her off with some excuse. But she was her aunt and her landlord and was renting her an apartment in the Quarter for a ridiculously cheap price, so she was obligated.

She felt guilty for not wanting to be there. Her aunt was a sweet woman. A bit on the eccentric side, but very sweet. She was her mother’s older sister and had become a bit of a mother to Sonia after her own had passed away. That had been hard on everyone. Her father had died when Sonia was very young and she did not have much memory of him, but her mother had been there her whole life, passing away from cancer shortly after Sonia was accepted to med school. Returning to New Orleans had not been easy for her but her aunt had managed to fill that void, caring for Sonia both emotionally and financially. The least she could do is show up when asked.

Dear sweet aunt Maria. They could not be more opposite. Sonia looked at her reflection in the darkening window. Her aunt and her mother both took after their own mother, with long flowing red blonde hair and bright green eyes, they had certainly been stunners. And while Sonia had been named after her grandmother, and their mother, she could not look more opposite of them. With her long dark hair and brown eyes, she had been told she took after her father’s side of the family. Something she had resented when younger. Sonia certainly did not feel like a stunner.

Sonia reached up and pulled at the bell and the trolley rumbled to a halt at the next stop. Getting off at First Str she would walk the block to Prytania and Second where her aunt’s house was.

It was a grand old house, beautiful in that New Orleans Garden District style. She used to love coming here as a child with her mother. All of the old antiques and books had always fascinated her. It had surprised everyone when she got into medicine instead of antiquities like her mother and aunt. But Sonia had made up her mind when her mother was first diagnosed with cancer.

Although in the end, she could not save her.

Sonia walked through the gate and up the walk to the front porch adorned with wrought iron and gas lit lamps. She opened the unlocked front door and frowned. She had told her aunt repeatedly about that. Not a good habit to have, even in this area. But aunt Marie would just shush her with a laugh and say something about how no one would ever dare.

When she was young, there were rumors that witches lived in the old house. The witches of course being her mother and her aunt. It was something Sonia had never liked and her aunt had never dissuaded. She said it kept the riffraff away. Still, an unlocked door in New Orleans was never a good thing, even if the locals thought you were a witch.

“Aunt Marie,” she called out once she was all the way inside. She closed the door behind her.

It was a grand foyer. Dark wood floors and crown molding along the walls. Great old portraits of family members long past adorned the halls and fireplace. Her namesake’s portrait hung above the fireplace in the main greeting room, her green eyed stare gazing down at her. Her mother’s portrait hung across from her grandmother’s, matching green eyes and red gold hair. Sonia walked over to her mother’s portrait. It was beautiful but it did not do her justice. Her name was engraved on a small plaque at the bottom of the frame.

_Charlotte Aulin Belnades Belmont_

“Sonia? Sonia darling, is that you?” her aunt’s voice rang out from the hallway

“Yes Marie, it’s me,” she replied. Sonia could not help but smile as her aunt swept into the room. Her blonde hair, having turned silver long ago, was swept back into a low lose bun. Her skin was fair and still smooth for her age and Sonia could not help but wonder at time if she had work done. Good for her if she did. She wore minimal make up and yet still looked beautiful. Even in her late sixties she could still turn heads. She pulled Sonia into an embrace. Even the strength in her arms belied her age.

“Oh my sweet girl, let me look at you,” she held Sonia at arms length. “Why you are nothing but skin and bones. Are you eating? Do they even let you eat over there?”

“It’s the scrubs aunt Maria,” Sonia laughed, “they make anyone look skinny. They are very forgiving that way.”

“Well that’s just nonsense. They forgive nothing,” she said dismissively as she hugged Sonia again. “It is a good thing I had Amber make something before she left today. Well, come on, come on. Don’t just stand there like a goose! Come on.”

Sonia was swept down the grand hall to the kitchen where an impressive amount food was laid out on the counter. Her stomach growled instantly. Maybe she would eat just a little.

Several servings later, Sonia sat in a large comfortable chair in breakfast area of the kitchen. Her aunt sat across from her as they talked about their day. Sonia told her about her rounds at the hospital and her hopes of moving to the cancer ward of the children’s hospital. Her aunt could not understand why she would want to be around so much sadness. Sonia would tell her that there were some amazing stories to be told in those wards. Some beautiful souls to be encountered. She wanted to be a part of something special. She wanted to help bring some hope to people’s lives. And there were times when she truly felt as if she did help. There were times cried, yes she most certainly cried, but there were also times when, if miracles existed, they happened. Her aunt sat quietly as she spoke, sipping at her glass of wine.

“You know what you need my sweet? You need a vacation and a good man. And by good I mean in the sack darling.”

Sonia laughed. “In about five to ten years maybe. I’m good for now.”

“No, no pet, you do. You need to rest, just a bit. You have been nonstop now since your mother passed, God rest her soul. You are young and should living. Not surrounding yourself with death.”

“Auntie, I appreciate the concern I really do, but I’m fine.”

“But –”

“I’m fine,” she interrupted. She really did not want to get on this discussion again with her aunt. Sonia had been going at a pretty brisk pace since the death of her mother. She had been out on a few dates but nothing memorable. There would be a time when she could slow down and take a break for a bit, it just was not right now. “Trust me,” she repeated, “I’m fine.”

“Mmm,” her aunt replied, lips pursed and eyes narrowed as she looked at Sonia. She threw back the last of the wine in her glass and smiled at Sonia. “Well come on then. Time to show you.”

“Time to show me what?” Sonia said slowly.

Her aunt’s eyes sparkled. “My latest acquisition.”

Sonia followed her aunt up the stairs and into one of the five bedrooms of the house. It was a room that was rarely used. A large ornate four poster antique bed and armoire were on one side of the room while a large vanity was on the other. But it was to the far corner that her aunt pulled her too.  An object that almost touched the tall ten foot ceilings sat in the corner covered with an old sheet. Her aunt pulled it with a flourish ted o reveal a large broken mirror in an ornate gilded frame. The mirror itself was a complete loss but the frame was something to behold. Gold and silver seemed to be almost woven into the wood work that arched and swirled around the shattered glass. The top and the bottom of the frame was carved with cherubs and vine work that snaked all along the top to a great point while strange shapes were carved into the sided. Symbols that Sonia could not quite make out and yet, for some reason, looked familiar.

“Oh Marie,” Sonia gasped, “it’s gorgeous.”

“I know! It is almost shameful what I paid for it but I just had to have it.”

Sonia ran her hand along the side of the frame. “How old is it do you think?”

“Hmm, well I can’t be certain,” her aunt tapped her chin with a finger thoughtfully, “but I thought perhaps sometime around the late 1300 to early 1400’s … maybe …”

Sonia continued to run her hand along the frame, her fingers brushing over the strange symbols. “It’s a shame about the mirror.”

“Oh, I think it still works.”

“Aunt Maria, it is completely shattered,” Sonia replied incredulously. “You’re going to have to replace the whole thing.”

“What? Oh yes, the broken glass, yes. I’ll replace it of course.”

Sonia shook her head. Her aunt was so flighty at times.

“Oh will you look at the time,” her aunt gasped. “Well you can’t go home now. You will simply have to stay here.”

Sonia looked at her watch. Eleven thirty already? She held back a sigh. The streetcars would not be running anymore. If she wanted to get home she would have to call a cab or Uber. Two things she did not like to do. She gave her aunt a suspicious look.

“You planned this, didn’t you.” It was not really a question.

“Oh don’t be mad sweetie,” her aunt implored. “I never get to see you. You have to forgive your needy old aunt. Humor me just this once.”

“You should be ashamed of yourself aunt Maria.”

“Sometimes I am,” she replied with a wink.

They stayed up a bit longer before saying good night. Sonia did not worry about her scrubs, she could get new ones at the hospital if she got called in. And since she and her mother had practically lived here while she was growing up, finding an old t-shirt to sleep in was not that difficult either. She would have to sleep in the room with the mirror though, as her old room had been turned into another closet for her aunt. First world problems, Sonia thought with a sigh.

As Sonia sat on the bed and brushed out her hair, she looked over at the old mirror. After a moment, she got up and walked over to where it leaned against the wall. Something about those markings nagged at Sonia, grating just under the skin. She traced the markings with her fingertip, running over them again and again. It was while doing this over and over again when she realized.

They were incomplete. The markings carved into the sides were incomplete. At some point in this grand old mirrors history, someone had covered portions of the markings with paint and gilding. Sonia looked around the room for something, anything she could use, finally settling on her keys. She began to scratch furiously away at the gold and paint to reveal the carvings in their entirety. When she had finally removed all of the paint and décor, she ran her hands along the sides brushing away the dust until the wood felt warm beneath her touch. The dim light of the room made the strange shapes almost seemed to glow from within the wood as her hands moved over it. It also seemed to make the glass within the mirror look as if it rippled. Sonia froze.

It did ripple. Like water disturbed in a pond, every time she touched the markings with her hand the glass rippled. Before Sonia realized what she was doing, she reached out and touched the glass. She gasped as her fingers disappeared into the mirror, the icy cold from within stealing the heat from her hand. The cold crept up her arm and under her clothes, spreading across her skin like the lacy tide in a frigid winter beach. Icy cold began to chill her into clumsy numbness as her arm became more submerged. The cold seeped into her spine and traveled down to her toes, spreading painfully into her feet as if she stood on frozen stone instead of the fine wool rug over the wood floor. Sonia felt as if she had lost all sense of time and place as that icy hand crawled along her person, licking at her face as she gasped another breath as if drowning.

She could no longer see. Everything was black.

When she was finally able to find a light and focus her eyes, she found herself on the ground struggling to get up. The temperature of the room had dropped significantly. So much that she shivered and her teeth chattered uncontrollably. It was then she realized she was wet, her hair dripping as rivulets of water ran down her arms.

How did she get wet? How did she get on the floor? Wait, where did the rug go?

She struggled to her feet and look around at surroundings she did not recognize. Broken glass lay scattered around her feet in hundreds of strange reflections of light. She looked for the source of the light to find it coming from behind her. It was a doorway, the light was coming from a doorway. And standing within that doorway was a man holding a sword.

It was finally too much for Sonia to bear, and she found herself falling once more to the ground, this time embracing the dark.

 

* * *

  **~oOo~**

Alucard walked along the dark hallway, sword in hand. Whatever it was that was in the castle, had come through the distance mirror. This could be bad. This could be very very bad. It was not till he reached the entrance to the chambers that he realized how bad.

He walked through the doors, sword at the ready. But he was not met with some dark creature from the hordes of the night. Instead he found a young woman, barely clothed in a short shift, soaking wet from to toe and shivering. She looked at him from beneath a curtain of dark hair, fear and confusion coming off her in waves before collapsing to the ground. He had her before she ever touched the ground of course and it was now his turn to stare in confusion.

What the hell just happened?

 

* * *

 

  **~oOo~**

Maria closed the door to the room with the distance mirror once Sonia was all the way through. She then walked back down the stairs to the main sitting room and poured herself another glass of wine. Turning she held her glass up to the portrait of her sister.

“It is done, sweet Charlotte,” she whispered softly, “I just hope you were right.”

 

* * *

  **~oOo~**

He threw the body down in a heap with the others, brushing his hands on his tunic in disgust. Vile bit of business this was, but had to be done. He was going to have to burn his clothes by the end of the day, the stench was so bad. It clung to everything, the air, the clothing, his skin. He was going to have to take a bath after this, Sypha would no doubt insist. Trevor grimaced at the thought of her insistence. She would haul him by his balls if he gave any guff. But then he had no one to blame but himself for that, seeing as he was the one who asked her to marry him.

He looked up along the hill line till he found two figures with reddish gold hair and smiled. They were giving instructions to several of the townsfolk and they jumped to do their bidding. Even the local clergy stood at attention when Sypha spoke. About time too, Trevor thought he was going to have to gut those sons of bitches at first, but they eventually came around. They always come around in the end.

They had arrived in Dobreta a fortnight ago to find a city in chaos. Roving hordes of creatures spat out from the very bowels of hell had begun tormenting the populace. After discovering that lifting voices in prayer just was not going to cut it, the call went out for aid, landing on his doorstep. He was not of mind to help him at first. That fucking bishop had the gall to call Sypha a witch and talk of burnings at the stake were bandied about. All of that stopped on the first night they were here, after Sypha incinerated a pack of those bloody monsters trying to get through the gates. That and the bishop who was trying to get her arrested as a witch got his throat slashed by one of those hellbeasts. Trevor saw the whole thing but could not get there in time to save him.

A shame that was. Fucking tragic

All talk of witches stopped after that, at least when it came to the topic of bonfires anyway.

It was Sypha though, who was the true hero. He watched her as she and several of the village wise women talked of healing herbs and doled out instructions to the men on the cleanup. She had grown in strength during the time they had been traveling; in both power and confidence. She had a way about her. A way that could win over the most difficult people. An enthusiasm and hope that was so desperately needed during the dark times. She was compassionate and could see into the heart of men in a manner he never could. She simply brought out the best in people. He had no idea how he ever got along without her. Before he met Sypha he could have cared less what happened. Whether to himself or others, it was not his concern. He just did not give a fuck. And why should he? Had not the people of Wallachia spurned him? Had they not rejected him and his family, destroying his home and casting them out into the night? They could all go to hell as far as he was concerned and deserved every moment of it.

It was Sypha who opened his eyes once more. Sypha, who dragged him kicking and screaming into the world, forcing him to see. It was Sypha who showed him that he was worthy, not only to give, but to receive love.

And he did love her, with every part of his being. Which brought on a whole new level of worry for him.

For if anything ever happened to her it would be his undoing.

He was getting old, well, not that old, but definitely older. He was starting to feel it now. It was time to pass the torch to the young as far as he was concerned. If he had his way, he would take him and his own and go live out life somewhere quietly. Safe and far away from the darkness that still seemed to stalk Wallachia. But that was not her way. And her way was now his way.

Sypha felt there was a responsibility they to the people now. To leave the world a better place than they found it, not just for the present generation but for the future generations to come. Trevor agreed with her, to a degree. While he believed that he did have a responsibility to the future generations to clean the mess that his had left, he did not do it for the people. Fuck the people. No. He did it for his own.

He looked to the second figure next to Sypha. A tall solid lad with hair far more gold than red. People said he was like his father, but Trevor did not see it. Simon was the image of his mother, from the color of his hair and eyes to his firm and steady determination to their cause. Although, he could be a little rash at times, acting before thinking, and his language lately had taken a bit of a turn. Where he had learned that language, Trevor had no idea. He made a mental note to have a word with him about that.

Anyway, what kind of father would he be if he left these monsters roaming the lands? The Belmont legacy, while grand at one time, was not the one he wished to leave for his son. Not for Simon. He saw the world differently, now that he had son. He wondered if his father had felt the same.

Trevor turned and began to make his way up the hill towards where his wife and son stood. Once he was alongside of them, Sypha stepped out to overlook the dead twisted pile of monstrosities. With a quick flick of her hand a spark flew and the grotesque pile below burst into flames.

“There were more this time,” she said as he moved next to her. The reflection of the fire burned in her bright blue eyes. “They were weak, but still more.”

Trevor nodded, his mouth tightening slightly. There had been more this time.

“The magic used to create them, it’s almost …” Sypha’s nose wrinkled as she searched for the words, “… as if it’s incomplete. As if it was held back, making them easier to kill.”

Trevor arched a brow at that. He did not think they were easier to kill. He sighed

“We are being tested,” he muttered grimly.

“Yes,” she replied, “and no.”

“No?”

“No. At least, not right out. Ah! It is hard to explain.” Sypha threw her hands up in frustration in that way that Trevor had always found charming. Adorable when frustrated, gorgeous when challenged. Sypha scowled at him. “Don’t look at me like that,” she snapped.

“Like what?” he blinked innocently. He winced as she poked a little finger against his chest.

“You know exactly what,” she said dismissively. Her irritation with him did not last for she threaded her arm with his as they began to walk and he took in the warmth of her pressed against his arm

She tapped a finger absently against her lips as she became lost in thought once more.

“It is as if the spell is incomplete on purpose. Not to test,” she mused, “to purposely suppress them, but in secret. The magic is … subtle. As if it did not want to be discovered.”

Trevor’s brow furrowed as he took in her words. Someone was using magic secretly to suppress them? Or was it suppressed secret magic? Not finishing magic in secret? Bloody hell. The whole damn thing made zero sense to him. One thing he was certain of though was that these were not leftovers from Dracula’s hordes. They were ferocious and deadly, but did not have near the cunning Dracula’s little shits had.

“Maybe some novice Forgemaster?” God, he hated those fuckers. “Some dumbass apprentice maybe doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing?”

“Maybe,” she said softly, now lost in thought. Her finger continued to tap away furiously at her lower lip. Trevor smiled.

“Hey now,” he said as he stopped walking and took her hands in his, pressing them to his lips, “we’ll figure this out. And by “we” I mean you of course.”

Sypha did not smack him as he had expected but she did smile. God, that smile was worth the risk. Burn him to hell, but it lit up her face. The woman was a gamble but her smile alone was win enough for him.

“You,” she said as she leaned up on her tiptoes to place a gentle kiss at the corner of his mouth, “are incorrigible.”

He grinned down at her, fully prepared to steal a much better kiss when the sound of familiar footsteps approached from behind.

“Father, mother. There haven’t anymore sightings or reports of the monsters outside the walls. Although one or two of the bastards may have gotten away. I will go with Grant to hunt them.”

Trevor arched an eyebrow. He really was going to have to talk to him about his language. Where did he pick that up? He turned to look at his son. As tall as he was and just as broad, at the cusp of manhood. By all rights he was man, as far as Trevor was concerned considering the things he has seen. But Sypha still wished to hold on to the little boy. Trevor felt she coddled him too much, not that he would ever say that to her. But he would be of age soon and will want to seek to make his own way. Maybe find a wife and start a family. Much like himself at that age. Sypha was just far too protective to see the bigger picture in a man’s life sometimes.

“You and Grant will stay here. Those creatures and long crawled back to whatever hell spat them out by now. Gather some of the townsfolk and help organize patrols.”

Simon did not like this and the look of disappointment was plain. Trevor took a step towards his son and lay a hand on his shoulder.

“I know you wish to go out, but the need is here. I need for you to show these people what they need to know for after we are gone. The clergymen have come around, but your presence will help keep them in line. Show them what it is to lead. These people need to know they can follow the church while not being cowed by it. Do you understand?”

Simon looked to the ground and nodded yes. His disappointment was palpable but he understood. When they had arrived the town bishop had the townsfolk believing the terror was of their own making. That they had brought this upon themselves. Nothing pissed Trevor off more than the bloody church. A man could have his faith and not be beaten down by it. People needed to see that. Besides, Simon needed to know that while he may be on the verge of manhood, he was not there yet. It was important for the pup to heed his elders. Trevor glanced around. “Where the hell is Grant anyway?”

“Here my lord.”

Trevor almost jumped. Blast that man had a way of sneaking. A hand shorter than Trevor and a few years older than Simon, his brown shaggy hair pulled back with a sash and covered with hidden knives, Grant Danasty was a wiry strong little fellow. They had found him when he was still a boy, possessed by a demon. A nasty business that had been but they had managed to save him. Sypha, being the soft heart she is, refused to just leave him and insisted they take him on. When Simon was born, Grant took it upon himself to be some sort of personal body guard slash liege man or something. Trevor found the whole thing ridiculous.

Still he was strong and agile and was wicked with those knives of his. A good ally to have at your back. And he worshiped Sypha. Trevor would never mind another set of eyes looking out for her.

“Dammit man, I told you not to call me that.”

“Yes my lord.”

Trevor gritted his teeth and suppressed a sigh. “You heard what I said earlier?”

“Yes my lord.”

“Good. I won’t repeat it. I’ll trust the two of you to get it done then.”

“Of course my lord.”

“Oh get the hell off then,” he growled exasperatedly.

“Come on Grant,” Simon said as the two young men began to walk away, his disappointment ebbing somewhat now that he had a task focus on. “Let’s see what we can get that bloody clergy to agree too.”

Trevor’s mouth pursed slightly. He really was going to have to talk to him about his language. He was glad that Grant was with him to help keep him from trouble. He was a smart boy, but he still had a tendency to react a bit too hastily at times for Trevor. He turned around only to find Sypha giving him a flat look.

“What?” he said, genuinely confused as to what he did to deserve that look.

Sypha shook her head. “You really should start letting him make his own choices. He is a very capable young man. Still, I suppose it is good that he has this task, as we will need to leave him in charge after we are go.”

Trevor felt his mouth drop open in disbelief. _He_ needed to let him make his own choices?! What was she talking about! He was the only one who could see him for the man he has become. Wait … what did she say?

“Go?”

“Yes, go. To see Alucard.”

If Trevor’s mouth had dropped open before, his jaw now hit the ground.

“Alucard,” he shouted, “why? What for?”

“Because something is moving Trevor. Something is attempting to cover the land once more. Something dark. And whether it is testing us or being held back in some magical way, doesn’t matter. It is coming. Don’t pretend you haven’t noticed the frequency of these raids. They are increasing. And the one place, the one source of knowledge where we may find the information we need, is with Alucard. You see this yes?”

Trevor stood there gawping, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to find the words, or even just the opportunity to interrupt with a good argument. Now that Sypha had stopped talking and was giving him that chance, he had nothing. She was right. Something was moving, rearing its ugly head. And Alucard was the most likely source to have the knowledge to stop it.

Trevor raked his fingers through his hair as let out a long frustrated groan. Alucard.

“You’re right, I know, I know. You’re right. But just because it is right thing to do, doesn’t mean it’s the smart thing Sypha. The last time we saw him was before Simon was born, and even then he was already different, like he was pulling away from humanity. We haven’t seen him in years, who knows what he's like now. It's said he never leaves the castle and that anyone who enters is never seen again. It’s a wonder we haven’t been sent to dispatch him yet.”

Sypha walked to Trevor and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her chin against his chest so she looked up at him. Trevor felt his apprehension melt almost immediately. Her eyes were brilliant blue pools a man could spend a lifetime swimming in.

“But we haven’t been sent to dispatch him. And he is doing what he promised, protecting the castle and the Belmont Family Hold.”

Trevor wrapped his own arms around her shoulders as he pulled her close to him.

“We don’t know what we will find there Sypha,” he whispered into her hair.

“We will find our friend.”

 

* * *

  **~oOo~**

_“Concentrate Sonia, focus on the coin.”_

_Sonia sat on her mother’s lap and stared at the large gold coin on the table in front of her. It was a unusual coin, unlike any she had ever seen before. Strange markings covered one side while something that looked like a pointy house was on the other. Sonia did not understand why she had to stare at it._

_“Look at the coin Sonia, focus,” her mother said again. “See how shiny it is, how smooth it is. Think about how it would feel in your hand. Would it be cold or would it be hot. Which would you want it to be?”_

_Sonia huffed out a short sigh, fidgeting. She did not want to be here, looking at this stupid coin. She wanted to be outside playing. It was not fair. Every other kid in the world got to outside to play, but not her. No she had to sit up in this stupid room and look at these stupid coins. It was not fair at all._

_“The coin Sonia,” her mother repeated, “cold or hot …”_

_Sonia stared at the gold coin. She hated that coin. She decided it would be hot because she wanted nothing more right now that to see it melt away forever, never to be looked at again. Just a stupid gold puddle of goo. Stupid coin. She would think about melting it, crushing it and blasting it away forever. She thought she could almost start to see it bubble, she hated it so much. The desk around it would start to turn black and smoke as the coin burned away and then her mother would let her go outside. Then her mother would finally leave her alone about the stupid coin. Her eyes began to water –_

_It wasn’t fair –_

_Her mother’s voice calling her name –_

_She hated that coin –_

_Her mother’s voice screaming her name –_

_Sonia snapped back to focus and realized her mother had her by the shoulders, shaking her violently as she screamed her name, the desk ablaze behind her._

_“Sonia look at me!  Come back to me! Hear my voice baby, please! Sonia!”_

_Sonia saw the fire behind her mother and began to whimper and cry. Her mother pushed her out of the room before running back in with her aunt. Sonia watched as they put out the fire with a wave of their hands. Sonia continued to cry._

Sonia’s eyes slowly fluttered open as she forced herself awake from the dream. The room was dark but for the soft glow from the fireplace. She rolled over and buried her head under the pillows. She hated that dream. It never made any sense to her. And whenever she woke it always had the lingering trace of what seemed like memory. Ridiculous of course. It must just be because she is at her aunt’s house. She always had strange dreams here. She had even dreamed something about a man and sword and falling though a mirror. She really needed to take some time off.

Sonia stretched her legs and arms under the soft sheet, untangling her feet from the long gown she wore as she did. She peeked out from under the pillow to look at the fire. That was nice of her aunt to do ... wait …

Sonia shot upright in the bed, the pillow flying to the floor. This was not her room. She did not go to bed in a long gown. She had not gone to bed at all. She was not in her aunt’s house. She was in some strange cavernous looking room with a large fireplace, like out of some medieval fairytale.

Sonia squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again only to find the room did not change. Her heart hammered in her chest and she thought she might be sick. She had to get out of here. She had to figure out where she was and get home. Oh God, she just wanted to go home.

She pushed back the covers and stepped barefoot onto the cold floor. She shivered almost violently and knew instinctively it was not from the cold. She forced herself to place one foot in front of the other, willing herself towards the door. She thought her heart was going to pound its way out of her chest from fear. She stepped out of the room to find a hallway that seemed infinite in both directions. She did not know which way to go and so she forced one trembling foot in front of the other, terrified that at any moment someone would round the corner and discover her. She came to the end of the hall only to find another one. She turned and began to walk again, coming to the end of that hall to find some stairs. Up or down? Bedrooms were usually upstairs, right? She would take a gamble and head down, till she found another landing. She did not want to go so far down she ended up in some sort of dungeon. Sonia fought another wave of panic and began to repeat to herself that she was going to be alright like a mantra. She walked down the hall till she found another set of stairs and began to descend. On and on she went like this, hallway, stairs, hallway, stairs until she finally collapsed in a heap against the wall of yet another hallway.

Her fear faded into frustration as she began to cry. What the hell was going on? Where the hell is she? What the fuck did she do to deserve this? She wanted to scream, so she did. And then she got up and began to run.

She did not know where she was running to. She did not really care. She was just so frustrated, so angry, and just so scared. Something she hated more than anything. She hated being frightened. Working in an emergency department had taught her to control her fear, to dispel her hesitation. She made decisions. She acted. Practically on instinct. She was not about to be kidnapped and caged in some subterranean torture castle. Her heart thundered and her vision blurred. She could practically feel her blood as it rushed through her veins. She had to get out. She was going to get out.

Just like the gold coin. She hated that coin. No this cannot be. This is not real. This cannot be real.

As she ran, she realized the floor beneath her bare feet had become icy cold. She slowed to stop and looked around. She was no longer in some hallway that led to stairs that led to another hallway. She stood on a landing that stood before a huge grand room.

And at the far end, two great doors that went so far up she could not see where they ended, and led outside.

Sonia thought she may cry, this time with relief.

She was running again. Out the doors and into the dimming sunlight.

 

* * *

  **~oOo~**

Alucard stood within among the ruins of the Belmont manor with some consternation as he watched the young woman run off into the woods. How had she gotten past his wards? They were not anything meant to harm the girl. Just a simple befuddlement spell meant to keep her from wandering off and getting into trouble while in the castle. Simple but also quite complex, as spells go, and this girl just burned right through them as if they were rice paper and then ran off into the night.

It was all very vexing.

For a moment he thought it was all for the best. She was gone now, perhaps back to her people, no longer his concern. He could go back to the existence he had created before this girl had landed on his doorstep. But no, that was not possible. She did not wander into this place, a traveler seeking respite. She had stumbled through the looking glass and there was no telling where she was from. So very very vexing.

Besides, there were more than just demons prowling the night once more. It was far more likely she would die if he did not follow her.

Alucard felt something then he had not felt in some time. It was dismay. Dismay and uneasiness. Dismay at his callousness and lack of regard for the young woman’s life. Uneasiness at how readily he was to accept it. What was he coming too?

Alucard stepped out from the shadows and into the fading light.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**~oOo~**

Sonia fell onto the cool damp ground, her legs simply could not hold her up any longer. Her fingers dug in the earth as she sucked air into burning lungs. Her burst of adrenaline done, it took all she had to hold herself up on all fours. Once she had steadied her breathing and calmed her heart, she crawled and slumped over against the trunk of a gnarled old tree. She was finally free from those random twisting hallways yes, but where was she now. Certainly not in New Orleans. Maybe not even outside of it.

She looked around and felt the feeling of dread return. Her fight or flight instinct had kicked in so thoroughly that she never even considered looking at her surroundings as she ran. So much for those damn self-defense classes. She had completely panicked and now she was sitting under some old tree in the middle of some rapidly darkening woods.

Sonia had terribly underestimated the blackness of nighttime in the woods, especially after living in the city as she had her entire life. Even if there were a moon out tonight it would not penetrate the dense canopy above. A coffin could not be darker, six feet under and piled with dirt. She began to breathe the cool air more rapidly once again, the only sound to be heard as the darkness pressed in on her from all sides. Even though she was outside, the nothingness nurtured a sense of claustrophobia inside her and her body once more screamed for her to get up and run. She pulled her knees up against her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. Suddenly a strange room with a fireplace did not seem so bad. At least she was indoors. Black trucks against a black backdrop did not make for much to see and her imagination happily obliges with horrors to fill the void.

No. She would not panic. Not again. She pulled herself up to her feet. There had to be something out here. A house that size would not be sitting out in some random dark woods somewhere. There had to be a town or store, other homes or something. She was not a child, she could do this.

As she stumbled her way through the dark, feeling her way past winding knotted tree roots, damp spongy moss and the occasional strange sensation that something was squirming under her bare feet, she began to recall the events leading up to her current situation.

What exactly had happened?

Was what she had originally taken as a dream turn out to be real? Had she pushed her way through a mirror in her aunt’s house and ended up God knows where? If that was the case, did she really see a man with a sword before waking up in some strange bed? And how did she get into the nightgown? How any of that could even be possible, Sonia did not know, but it was the last thing she remembered. Maybe she was in a coma … maybe she was in a coma right now … this was all too much to even comprehend at the moment. She had to get back to civilization and figure out where she was.

She was uncertain for how long she staggered through the dark before finally hearing voices. Sonia stood there for several minutes, straining her ears to make sure she was actually hearing them. She moved toward where she thought the sound was coming from and almost started laughing hysterically when she saw the flickering light of what must be a campfire. If it was a troop of boy scouts with popcorn she would buy every overpriced bag they had.

“Help me please!”

Her voice rasped and cracked as she called out into the night, forcing her way through the overgrowth towards the light. As she made her way the voices stopped.

“Please, please I need help …”

They had to hear her. If not her voice, then at least the commotion she was making in with the brush. Suddenly the flickering lights disappeared and Sonia’s voice became pitched.

“No! Wait! Please wait!”

She hurled herself through the dark, careening towards where she had just seen the light. She had to stop them, catch them before they left. She had to get help.

Sonia’s feet suddenly flew up from underneath her as she ran into what she thought was a low hanging branch, knocking the wind out of her.

Everything became blurry and spun as she struggled to remain conscious. She had some idea that she moving, whether she was being carried or dragged she was unsure. Either way it was painful. She was dropped on the ground in a heap and she thought she heard voices once more. It was difficult to tell. The voices sounded thick and muffled, as if she were listening from underwater.

“… a fucking girl …”

“… out here … the castle …”

“… witch …”

Sonia forced herself to concentrate and tried to sit up, only to be forced back down by a hand to her throat.

“Oh no you don’t,” a deep voice spat. “Back down with you.”

“I’m telling you, the only thing out here is that fucking castle,” a second voice whined, “she’s a witch.”

A witch?

“Witch or no, she’s looks clean,” a third voice spoke up very close to her ear, “… I’d fuck her.”

What.

“Christ Gerold, you’d fuck a goat,” the first voice snorted. “Well get on with it then, we need to move off before something not so easy to kill comes around next.”

Sonia felt rough hands force their way between her legs and something snapped. She fell into a living nightmare. She escaped from some scary sex trafficking torture dungeon only to find herself in the woods about to get raped.

She summoned up every last bit of strength she had and swung as hard as she could –

_she sees herself terrified as she runs through endless hallways_

– while simultaneously kicking, planting a fist in Gerald’s face and a knee in his crotch.

_she sees herself careening in the dark screaming for help_

As Gerold fell over gagging, Sonia pressed on with her attack by grabbing the nearest object she could grab and striking him  –

_she sees a man forcing her down and reaching between her legs_

– again and again as the sound of his companions laughter rings through her ears. “You wanna fuck her now Gerold?” they taunt as they move closer.

_she sees a gold coin_

A sudden flash of searing heat runs over her body and feels herself being propelled back, landing on the ground with a thud, the wind knocked out of her. Sonia squints and brings an arm across her face to protect her eyes from the blinding light that now burns from the once extinguished campfire, the flames so tall it seems to lick at the tops of the trees, until finally dying down. For a moment there is nothing but stunned silence.

“You see,” a voice shrieked, “she’s a fucking witch!”

A hand grabbed a fistful of her hair and jerked her head up and Sonia saw for the first time one of her attackers. He was a filthy disgusting looking man with hair that sat thick and matted atop his head. The only spot on his face that was not covered with hair was where a long scar trailed down his cheek. He wore some kind of overcoat that was ripped and caked with dried mud and filth. And the smell of body odor and feces made Sonia want to gag.

“The church pays good money for witches and this time we got a real one.”

“Just cut her fucking throat,” Gerold spat, still crouched over on the ground.

The greasy man pulled a long knife out from behind him and Sonia prepared to fight for her life. This was not going to happen to her. Not like this.

As the knife came around her throat, Sonia grabbed the blade with both hands, ignoring the feel  as it sliced her palms.

“Goddammit,” the he muttered as he pulled at the knife, trying to free it from her grip. He let go of her hair and looked her in the eye as he reared his hand back to strike. Sonia closed her eyes and pulled at the blade as hard as she could in an attempt to get free it from his grasp.

She must have pulled harder than she thought for she flung herself backwards onto the ground again, knife still in hand. A spark of hope ignited as she jumped up, preparing to run once more when she froze.

On the ground before her was what she thought must be the filthy man who had been holding her, but it was hard to tell because some sort of large white animal stood on his chest, it’s jaws locked around the man’s throat. A sick wet gurgling noise emanated from the man on the ground as the beast tore his neck to shreds. A second man jumped out of the shadows with a large ax only to have his arm ripped off by what Sonia now thought was a wolf. The man’s screams were quickly silenced as the wolf’s jaws snapped around his neck.

And then there was Gerold.

Gerold for his part had remained frozen with fear it would seem, his balls still cupped in his hands. The wolf stalked slowly towards him with a low threatening growl till it stood between Gerald and Sonia. His eyes wide with terror he looked from the wolf to Sonia and then back to the wolf.

“Witchcraft,” he hissed.

The wolf let out a loud snarl and Gerold ran. The wolf stood there growling at the dark for several more seconds before it stopped and turned around to level two great golden eyes on Sonia.

Sonia could not move, she could not even breathe. She held the knife out before her like some sort of ward for all the good it would do; her hands being so bloody she could barely grip it.

The wolf just stood there, two bright golden orbs blazing in the dark, studying. Sonia’s hands began to shake until she finally gave up and dropped the knife.

“Fuck it,” she said. “Just kill me already.”

The wolf cocked its head slightly as it looked at her before sitting back on its haunches with a huff. It began licking a paw and scrubbing at its face.

Sonia took a breath and then another.

“You’re not going to eat me then,” she whispered. The wolf glanced up at her as it kept cleaning itself. “I guess that’s appropriate considering everything that’s happened tonight.”

She looked around the small camp that now consisted of two dead bodies and a dying fire. She started to take a step towards one of the bodies when she glanced at the bloody knife on the ground and remembered her hands.

“Shit,” she muttered and looked around for something to bind them in. The two men on the ground were out. Not only because she would not go pick through the pockets of a dead man, but they were far too filthy to have anything she could use. Her night gown would have to do. She grabbed at a spot that was already torn at the sleeve and began ripping at the fabric. The wolf cocked at ear and looked in her direction. Sonia froze, but when it did not move she continued tearing.

Becoming aware once more of the cuts on her hands also made her aware of the pain. This was going to make an already difficult night even worse. She winced as she wrapped the fabric around her palm. In some small bit of good news, her right hand did not seem to be as bad as her left so she would not be completely incapacitated. She tore at the hem of her gown and began to wipe the blood from her hands. The wolf laid its head down and watched.

“Well, if you’re not going to kill me, I don’t suppose you know where I am.”

The wolf’s ears flicked in her direction, yellow eyes watching.

“I guess not.”

Sonia looked at the two bodies on the ground. The fact that there were two dead bodies next to her did not bother her. She had seen plenty of dead bodies working in the ER. Some in far worse condition than these two. What did bother her was the way they were dressed. Long coats and short leather boots. Tunics and torn breeches. Not sneakers or hiking boots. Not jackets or parkas. And they had packs with leather water skins and blanket rolls. Not water bottles or sleeping bags. One of the men had a sword next to them. They were dressed like something out of medieval times.

Sonia dropped back down to the ground. She was completely exhausted now. She stared down at her hands till they blurred from her eyes filling with tears. A soft rustling sound made her look up to see the wolf had walked over to where she now sat and sniffed at her hand.

Sonia was once more shocked by its size. It was huge or at least so she thought. She had never seen an actual wolf before, expect for on the television. But it was the eyes that truly struck her. They seemed to look right into her. She could have sworn she saw an intelligence there. But then as far as she knew she was going crazy anyway so it was six to one, half a dozen or the other.

The wolf’s cool wet nose brushed against her skin as it sniffed away. It seemed to stop around the cut and its tongue flashed out and licked her fingers. It must have gotten some of her blood because it jumped back slightly and shook its head as it sneezed several times. Sonia could not help but laugh.

“I suppose I am too pathetic for even you to eat.”

The wolf continued to shake its head.

“It’s alright, I don’t blame you. I imagine I don’t look very appetizing anyway. But I clean up pretty nice,” she chuckled and wiped at her eyes. “God, where the hell am I? I’m not in New Orleans anymore, I figured that one out. And when the hell am I? Because I am starting to think I am in not even …” she stopped and looked at the wolf before her, unable to say the words. She shook her head. “I’m losing my mind,” she muttered, “I must be losing my mind. That is the only explanation. There is no such thing as time travel or time machines. I did not fall into some mirror and end up in another time or world or whatever this place is. It’s a hallucination. It has to be. I am hallucinating right now that I am sitting in the woods with two dead bodies talking to a wolf the size of a minivan. That’s it. I am not freezing right now because I am not really here. It’s all in my head. Right?”

The wolf had stopped its little dance and was staring at her again, head cocked to the side as if considering what she had said.

“You know what, don’t answer that. I’m not sure I can take it, hallucination or no.”

Sonia drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs once more, this time for warmth. She had just rested her head down against her knees when she felt something alongside of her. She looked to see that the wolf was now sitting next to her, looking out into the dark.

She reached a tentative hand out, placing it lightly against its warm coat. It was surprisingly soft. Sonia has always thought wolves’ fur was coarse or rough, but this was smooth, almost silky to the touch. She ran her hand along its flank and then back up scratching gently at its ears. The wolf tensed somewhat at her touch at first, but it seemed to settle back and relax into it, even moving its head so she could reach the other ear. Sonia smiled.

“I thought you were a wolf, but you can’t be some wild animal and be helping me right? Wild animals don’t do that. You have to be dog or somebody’s pet. Some sort of hybrid maybe?”

Those gold eyes that reminded Sonia of the embers from a dying fire flicked briefly in her direction in what she could have sworn was indignation. She chuckled.

“Well, not a pet maybe. But certainly someone’s friend.” Sonia sighed and leaned against the animal, resting her head against sleek fur and soaked up its warmth. The wolf-dog did not seem to mind. It had a pleasant earthy cool smell, crisp, like the air in winter. She sighed. “I’m not crazy,” she said. Whether to wolf-dog or herself she was not certain. “And I’m not hallucinating. I did go through a mirror and end up here. Wherever here is. But here I am and now I have to find my way home … and maybe some clothes. So, do you know how to get out of here?”

Wolf-dog responded with a little huff as it continued to stare into the night. With a sigh she slowly and carefully pulled herself up to her feet.

“I can’t stay here. I have to keep moving, find shelter, do something so I don’t go crazy,” she looked at the two bloody bodies, “or get killed.”

Sonia looked around the camp for anything she could possibly use, but in the end only found a small oil lantern. Everything else was either too dirty or reeked with some foul odor that left her feeling nauseas. After fumbling for several minutes with the lantern, she was finally able to light the wick. Upon walking around the perimeter of the camp, she discovered there was a decently worn path she could follow.

Wolf-dog had watched her from where it lay not moving until she found the path. Once she had moved to go, it yowled out a yawn and stretched as it rose up as well and trotted over to where she stood.

“Are you coming with me,” she asked. It stood next to her, staring down the path. “Okay well … I guess I will start this way.” Sonia began to walk only for the wolf to move in front of her, blocking her way.

“Excuse me,” she said as she moved to step around it. But it blocked her once more, this time giving a short little growl.

“Excuse me,” she said again with a touch of annoyance. She stepped to the other side but it was there to meet her again, this time using its body to nudge her in the opposite direction.

“What the hell,” she threw up her hands in exasperation. “You want me to go this way? Well what if I don’t want to?”

It stared at her for a moment, considering her with those glowing amber orbs before giving a yelp like growl and nudged her once more in the other direction.

“Oh God fine, fine!” she snapped and turned to stomp the other way. “Fine! Fuck it, I’ll go this way. Why not.”

She began walking, the sound of feet padding alongside of her. The only thing between her and complete blackness was the dim light of the lamp. Everything beyond that light was nothing but shadows and uncertainty. Sonia began to shiver. The night was not terribly cold but every so often an icy breeze would blow around her, reminding her that all she wore was the tattered remnants of a night gown. The ground beneath her bare feet was a solid path, not littered with twigs and branches, but it was cold. But Sonia did not believe that was why she was shivering.

Sonia had managed to stop the bleeding from her hands, but the wounds were painful and the night a terror. Waking in a strange place, a group of men attacking her and two now dead. She was going into shock. She needed to focus.

Sonia tried not to think about the nights events. Instead she went through some of the exercises she did while undergrad school. Trapezium, trapezoid, capitate, hamate, scaphoid, lunate …

The occasional flash of gleaming white in her peripheral was the only sign that her new friend was with her. If she started to stray too far from the path he would appear to herd her back. She decided on “him” for some reason. Seemed better that thinking “it”; and he did save her life after all. Triquetral, pisiform, radius, ulna ….

“Are you a boy?” she wondered out loud. “I’d hate it if you weren’t and I just assumed that you are. But you seem pretty stubborn so …” Her only response was that indignant huff from somewhere behind her.

“Where are we going,” she mused, “or where are you taking me might be more appropriate. You got a family? An owner? Some pups maybe? Do you always wander the woods looking for people to save,” she giggled weakly. She was rambling now and her shivering was getting worse. She had to keep going. “No family for me, just an aunt. Mother gone. Father gone. No siblings. No boyfriend. No life. I’m studying to be a doctor though. I am doing that. Just starting a residency. I’m pretty damn good too, I … what?”

Sonia stopped abruptly to yellow eyes gleaming in the dark her before her. She could not see anything beyond the light of the lamp. She strained her ears, trying to hear if something was approaching, but heard nothing.

“What,” she repeated. Those strange eyes considered her for several more seconds before she heard another annoyed little huff and they disappeared into the night once more. Sonia grimaced slightly.

“Hmm, definitely a male. Radius, ulna, humerus, scapula, clavicle …”

Sonia could not be sure of how long they walked. She was concentrating so hard on anatomy rather than the cold, she had no idea of the time other than it was still dark. But as they walked she noticed that the trees began to recede as the path they were on widened. She realized that the trees were now being replace with what looked to be stone ruins. The remnants of some large building or house. Beyond that something even bigger in the darkness loomed over head in the gloom. Sonia felt the beginnings of hysterical laughter.

“Oh my God … I’m back where I started.” She looked at the wolf-dog. “Traitor.”

Wolf-dog yawned and shook out his head.

Sonia turned and continued up the path towards the shadow until she came to stairs that led back to the same two doors she had run through only hours ago. What had even been the point?

Sonia climbed to the top of the stairs and turned to look at the darkness she had left behind her. There was nothing. She could see nothing but black. No ambient lighting or the soft glow of civilization in the distance. No sign of anything.

Her friend padded up the stairs, running past her to the doors that pushed open far easier than Sonia would have thought they could. She walked inside, finding a far different sight from when she first flew through. Lamps were lit all along the columns of the grand hall, flickering in such a way that the shadows danced among the high ceilings. It was a grand room and yet foreboding in its simplicity, clean lines and black marble. The walls had a sheen like onyx that swallowed up the light.

A low yelp pulled Sonia’s attention to the main stair well. On the landing, where the stairs split into two was wolf-dog, waiting. She made her way up the stairs, her footsteps echoing through the hall. She followed him up the rest of the stairs and into the first hallway. She inwardly groan at the thought of becoming lost within the endless labyrinth of stairs and hallways once more, but instead of wandering, he nosed open the first door they came to and trotted inside. Upon following Sonia almost broke down in hysterical laughter once more.

It was the same room. The same goddamn room. The same unmade bed, the same pillow on the floor, the same damn fireplace still burning. She was right back where she started. She looked at her bandaged hands and bloodied feet. Dead bodies in the woods. It had all been for nothing.

She walked over to the bed and sat down. She wanted to cry, she knew she wanted to cry, but she could not. Not one tear. She felt numb. She just no longer cared. A noise in front of her caused her to look down and see her only companion for the last several hours staring up at her, head cocked to the side. She turned, scooting over as she slid her legs under the blankets. She pulled the covers back and patted the space next to her.

When he stood up and looked towards the door, Sonia felt her chest tighten. God no, she thought, please no. Don’t go. Don’t leave me alone, please don’t leave me alone. She patted the space next to her again.

“Please,” her voice a hoarse whisper, “come on, please.”

Those yellow eyes stared into her for several seconds before she heard a low whiney huff, and he jumped up on the bed and lay down next to her. He practically dripped with annoyance.

Sonia did not care. He stayed and that was all that mattered. She had gotten used to having the big hairy beast around. She felt safe. She started to lay down when she felt something scratch against her skin and realized what was left of her gown was filthy. Sitting up once more she pulled it up over her head and threw it to the floor. She then curled around her only friend, covering them both with the blankets. Exhaustion took her then, but she no longer cared.

 

* * *

 

**~oOo~**

Alucard stood next to the four poster bed and stared down at the young sleeping woman.

God, what a night this had been. It had been trying for him as well for he had surprised himself by falling asleep next to the young woman while in his wolf form, only to wake as a man. He was glad that he had awoke before her. God only knew what kind of hysterics that would have thrown the girl into.

He had learned many surprising things tonight. Puzzles to yet to be solved. It was intriguing to say the least.

He had followed her into the night and had been surprised at how quickly she had moved. It was an almost preternatural speed. He had taken his wolf form in an effort to make tracking her easier. The way she went careening through the woods it was a wonder she did not bring the attention of the woods more unsavory characters. Although she did make up for that by finding them instead.

That had angered Alucard immensely.

When he had finally caught up to her, initially he had been pleased. Pleased that she had found fellow humans, that perhaps they would be able to help her reunite with her own people. That had turned out to be quite the disappointment, although not surprising. Once he had come upon the camp and saw the men that inhabited it, he knew the nature of what they were about.

They were a repugnant swarthy group. He had seen their ilk before. Men who claimed to be hunters but instead preyed upon the weak to profit from the ignorant. They would seek out women who were rumored to be witches and then give them to the church for a reward and a beheading. Whether the women were witches or not mattered little to them. Guilty or innocent was irrelevant as long as they were paid. The church being even less concerned as long as they had a bonfire to keep the populace in line. A disgusting cycle.

It had enraged him to see how they had treated the girl, ready to bandy her life and strip away her humanity. They were going to kill her. Gleefully. They had no regard for living beings and therefore he was resolved to treat them the same. They were not even human as far as he was concerned.

And then, to say that what happened next had surprised him would be an understatement.

The blast had thrown Alucard back through till he landed with a thud and was left shaking his head in confusion. That is was magic, Alucard was certain. But as to what kind, of that he was not so certain. The traces it left sang of old magic of an elemental origin. Possibly even magic of the blood. Bloodborne Magic. That could be interesting. Whatever kind of magic it was, the air was thick with it. It had left him feeling momentarily heady, almost as if drunk. Not to mention temporarily blinded from the fire. Reorienting himself, he discovered the young woman was not resolved to go quietly into the night and was gripping the blade of her would be attacker. Alucard did not think after than as much as he acted, allowing instinct to take over and giving control to the animal within.

It was quick, if not messy work; easily dispatched. It was the girl who would be the challenge.

She had stood before him, bloody knife in bloodied hands, as if to defend herself from an attack. He had refrained from changing. She seemed on the verge of a very tall cliff to him. He did not wish to be the one to send her teetering off the edge.

Her hands were injured, at least one quite severely. The amount of blood was concerning and he found himself pleased to find that he was indeed still capable of such a sentiment. As he cautiously closed the distance between them, the overwhelming scent of magic permeated the air once more, becoming stronger as he approached and a familiar dizziness came upon him. It had a sweet ambrosial scent to it that literally called to Alucard. It had to be Bloodborne Magic. There was only one way to find out.

With a quick flash of his tongue he caught a drop from her hand. His senses practically imploded, causing a rush of awareness that raced like some sort of wild fire through his body. A torrent of images raged through his consciousness. Incoherent thoughts and images, memories. A girl wandering strange city streets, a child glaring angrily at a coin, a young woman running down brightly lit hallway. None of it made any sense to Alucard and he instinctively leapt back in a futile attempt to get away. A girl stood before a coffin, a grand old mansion off of a cobblestone street.

There was no question in Alucard’s mind now. She most certainly had Bloodborne Magic. Magic that was not learned but was born with. Alucard stared at the dirty young woman in before him with complete bewilderment. Carriers of blood magic were thought to have been hunted to the point of extinction, their blood being somewhat of a delicacy amongst vampires. To drain a human who had magic of the blood, a vampire not only gained their soul, but their magic as well, consuming that power and absorbing it as their own. It would seem that the puzzle that was this young woman had become far more complicated.

This was something that Alucard resolved to address at a later time. For now, he needed to get her back to the castle. He allowed her sometime to recover herself for she was badly shaken. He even allowed her to touch him like some sort of pet. An indulgence for the girl’s comfort of course, just this once. Plus, it had allowed him to learn another little detail. She had indeed come through a distance mirror, although she did not know how. Curious. He had let her scratch at his back for a few extra seconds … to see if she would say anything else of course.

Once she had gathered her wits somewhat they moved to depart and, after some subtle prompting, he was able to point her in the right direction. He kept to the outside perimeter light of the small lantern as they walked. The light muddled his night vision so he kept to the dark. He could keep a better eye on their surroundings and her this way for he felt she may not make it. She was injured and more than likely in shock by the way she was rambling. And dear lord, did she ramble. She prattled on and on as they made their way down the darkened path. Going on about him being a pet or whether or not he was male, how in the devil could she even question that? Something about family and parents and other mindless topics, only getting his attention once she said she was a studying to be a doctor. He had to stop then.

This girl … was studying to be a doctor.

Impossible.

And so they continued on. He patrolled while she prattled. But the closer they came to the castle, the less she seemed to be able to say, until she had finally gone completely quiet.

Alucard had thought that he would be grateful for the silence, but instead he only became concerned.

She had managed to keep her composure as they returned. Even Alucard had to admit her strength of will was admirable. But upon reaching the castle, it was as if something within the girl had shut down. Like one of the windup toys from his childhood that slowly petered out once the initial burst of activity ended.

Upon reaching the castle she had looked at the doors in resignation. But when she reached her room, she had looked at that in defeat.

Alucard had watched her closely as she returned to the room. Her strength now drained away. The impressive resolve that had carried her in the woods, now giving away to something Alucard instantly recognized.

A bitter hopelessness. 

She had climbed into the bed and patted the space next to her. Well, that was not going to happen. This mistaken assumption that he is some sort of household pet was going to stop and it was going to stop now. He had tuned to leave when she spoke. It was the first thing she had said upon their return to the castle.

It was her voice. He knew the sound in her voice. The aching hollowness. A poison to the spirit that dulled and killed off all other emotions till it was all that remained. A black mist that settles a refuses to shift no matter how bright the day or how warm the sun, leaving nothing but a shell that held a thousand oceans of tears. So desperate to cry chaotic, powerful, hot tears only to find he was incapable to do so; and so it sits, a heavy weight on his heart, cold and unending.

For the world was now lost to him and he knew nothing that would bring it back.

He had lay down on the bed then. He would humor the girl for this one moment. He may even let her stroke his ears and then he would go. He waited for her to lay next to him for she would surely fall to sleep quickly.

But instead of simply laying down, she instead stripped off what was left of her night shift and curled her body around his, shocking him as she pressed against him, wrapping her arms around his person.

He could feel her heart thrum against his back. He felt the steady rise and fall of her chest as it shallowed and slowed into the rhythm of sleep. He felt the heat of her body as she nuzzled and pressed against his. And for a brief moment, Alucard had felt some small bit of the cold leave his heart as he, against all better judgment, sank into her warmth and closed his eyes.

Only to open them again and find that he had shifted back, and now held this young woman against him as she slept.

He had practically flown out of the bed.

That had been careless of him. It had been some time since he had slept like a human man. In fact, it had been some time since he had slept at all. He must have been suffering from his own fatigue for such a lapse of judgement. He would not let that happen again. He would find some food and clothing for the girl and then settle the task of finding just where she had come from and return her immediately.

Alucard stared at the sleeping young woman. Without thinking, he brushed a stray lock of hair from her face and left.


	3. Chapter 3

Sonia's eyes slowly fluttered open. Bright light poured in through a crack in the curtains covering the tall windows of the room. There was no mistaking where she was this time as she woke once more in strange, and yet also familiar, surroundings. Although she had to admit, the room was not nearly as frightening in the light. The windows ran from the floor almost to the ceilings with deep red curtains made from rich heavy fabric. The bed sat in the center of the room, something Sonia found odd, but after all that had happened, it did not phase her too much. There was what looked to be a large armoire against one wall with a vanity and against the other wall a desk while a third wall of the room was completely cover with shelves and those stacked with books.

But it was what was in front of the fireplace that caught Sonia's attention the most. It looked to be a large barrel like tub of water with another smaller basin and pitcher next to it.

Sonia slowly sat up in the bed and found her friend was gone. The realization left her feeling somewhat vulnerable again. She pulled the covers back only to find that she was not clothed, the memory of throwing off the remains of that filthy gown coming back to her. Her head spun slightly, as if she were coming down from some sort of all-night bender. But then, she supposed she literally had.

Sonia rose up slowly from the bed and walked over gingerly to the basin. The she stared down at the water and then glanced cautiously around the room. She could not remember if that had been there before, when she had awoke the first time. She had left rather hastily.

She skimmed her fingers over the surface of the water. It was lukewarm, having lost any heat that it may have come in with. The idea of someone coming in while she slept should have disturbed her but she found herself numb at the thought. At this point what did it matter? She picked up the small piece of cloth that lay next to the basin and began to wipe down her body. Bits of dried blood and dirt flaked off of her skin while her hand pulsed with a consistent dull throb and when poured the water over it, she sucked in the air between gritted teeth sharply. The cut on her hand was angry and red. It was not so deep so as to cut tendons, but in need of attention. It did not look as if it were too late for stitches just yet but the risk of infection grew the longer she left it open.

Sonia noticed that the water in the larger basin had a slight fragrance to it. A hint of something, lavender perhaps? Leaning over the tub, she scooped some of the water up in the pitcher and poured it over her hair. The scented water was not warm by any means but she began to feel a little better as bits of leaves and filth fell out. She stepped in the wash tub, which was really nothing more than a large basin itself, and poured the water over her head again and again till she could not lift the pitcher with her good hand any longer.

She did not know how long she stood there, naked, wet and shivering. She stood there till the water no longer ran off of her body in rivulets to the floor. She stood there until she heard and scratching sound and then a door slowly creak open.

For the first time since she woke up, Sonia felt her chest tighten with a familiar dread as she turned in time to see a large white muzzle with amber eyes like liquid gold come around the door.

Relief flooded Sonia as she let out a breath she had been holding. She felt herself start to giggle as she began to walk across the room. When she reached the large wolf and dropped to her knees, wrapping her arms around its neck, her giggles having given away to an almost hysterical laughter while simultaneously crying.

She could tell her friend was not fond of the embrace. It was as if he fidgeted, shifting his weight back and forth between paws, his head twisting to look everywhere but at her while giving a plaintive whine. But Sonia did not care. He was back. His presence alone was enough to scratch through the numbness. She buried her face in his fur, taking in the comforting familiarity of his scent. But this time Sonia could smell something more, something … different. Something smokey? She took the big wolf's head with her hands and pulled his face to hers.

"You smell like barbeque."

Had he been human, Sonia would have said that the look he gave her was nothing short of withering. Sonia just grinned. She was starting to feel better already; remembering she is still alive … and naked.

With a final scratch between the ears, Sonia stood up and looked around the room once more, her gaze resting on the large armoire in the corner. She looked down at her friend to see that he had turned his back to her, occasionally glancing over his shoulder with an annoyed impatient huff. Sonia actually laughed. It sounded strange to her ears.

"Such the gentleman," she chuckled.

Sonia walked across the room and pulled open the doors to the armoire. Articles of clothing were folded on neatly on shelves and in drawers. A familiar unsettling feeling began to come over her once more as she rummaged around inside. All of the clothing were dresses or long robe-like garments that one had to lace up or clasp with small hooks. And there was nothing in the way of undergarments other than small light camisole-like tops and what looked to be … pantaloons?

She slipped on a camisole top and then one of the dresses over that. It was a little big but after wrestling with the clasps and lacing the front as tight as she could, it would do. She gathered up the bottom of the dress and tied it up in a knot at the hem so that it would not drag the ground. As for the underwear, well ….

Sonia walked back over to where her panties lay crumpled up and discarded on the floor. She took it over to the tub and scrubbed it and then laid it out by the fire to dry. Not the best solution, but until she could get somewhere to get some new ones it would have to do. There was no way she was wearing those pantaloons undies. Sonia looked at her reflection in the mirror by the dressing table. Some strange girl in a poorly fitted dress and bags under her eyes stared back at her. She combed her hair with her fingers, gathering it at the nape of her neck, twisting and draping it over her shoulder. It was the best she could do, given the circumstances, whatever those circumstances now were.

A sharp yip pulled Sonia's attention. She looked to see her friend pacing impatiently by the door. She walked back over to the table with the wash basin and grabbed a piece of cloth to wrap her hand with. A second, more insistent yip came at her once more. She looked to see her friend was now standing in the entrance.

"What? You have somewhere to be?" she sighed as she walked towards the door. "Well I don't feel like getting lost again."

That was met with a low growl and whine as gold eyes glared up at her.

"The last time I left this room, I was almost raped and two people died. Believe me when I tell you that I don't give a shit if little Timmy fell down a well. Now if there is food on the other hand …"

Another growling yip was her response but this time he snapped his teeth at her and bolted out the door.

"Hey," Sonia yelled as she jumped back. She stood there in shock for a moment before a loud yowl echoed down the hallway. She walked out to find her rather pushy friend waiting on the far end. He darted around the corner, only to peek his head back around the corner when she did not immediately follow. Another disgruntled growl was sent her way.

"Serioulsy," Sonia grumbled back. As soon as she took a step in his direction he disappeared around the corner once more. "I am not running after you," she muttered. But it turned out she would not have to.

Unlike her first adventure out in this building, she was not to desperately chase a labyrinth of hallways. Once she rounded the corner she caught brief glimpse of a white tail darting through an open door. Sonia hesitated. Not because she was about to follow some extremely well trained wild animal into a unknown room within a bizarre mind fucking building. She hesitated because of the smell.

And it smelled good.

Sonia ran heedlessly towards the open door and almost wept at what she saw.

It was a large room, similar to some sort of grand solarium, tall open windows spilled bright light within. Bookshelves lined the walls, at least two maybe even three stories of them, all the way up to the large sky light overhead. Giant orbs, set up almost like a model solar system hung from the ceiling. It was a grand room. And there were certainly even more wonders to behold beneath the shadows of the arches from the landings. But that is not what almost brought Sonia to tears. It was the table that sat in the center of the room. It was not a large table by any means. It was actually quite average, almost lost with its insignificance within the grandeur of the room.

But it was completely covered with food. The growl from her stomached echoed off the walls.

Sonia did not even think about whether she should or not, she simply began to stuff handfuls into her mouth, utensils be damned. There was bread and a thick soup along with some meat she did not recognize but did not care. She simply consumed it without thinking. She grabbed one of the cups and took a large swallow of liquid only to almost spit it out as she started to choke. It was wine. A thickly sweet wine that was similar to brandy. It had a gritty texture to it, almost as if the rinds of whatever fruit had been fermented to make it had not been filtered out. Not horrible but certainly not what she was expecting. Another cup on the table had what Sonia thought was tea; it was black, somewhat bitter and warm, but she no longer cared. It was sustenance.

She could not tell you just how long she had stood there, shoveling the food in her face. She had been so caught up she managed to forget the pain in her hand. She had even forgotten about her friend. She picked up a piece of meat and glanced around the room, whistling softly, but he did not answer.

"Hey boy … where'd you go?"

Sonia smiled. She probably just offended him. It was in this moment that she really looked at her surroundings. The room, while grand, was also in a state of some disrepair. There looked to be areas where the bookshelves had caved in, and sections of the walls had fallen out, as if there had been some sort of demolition. Or perhaps an earthquake. It was a shame really. The room was quite ornate with the architecture done in a gothic style. Some would say it was gaudy, but for one who up in New Orleans seeing rib vaulted ceilings and flying buttresses was like home.

Sonia began to nibble absently on the piece of meat in her hand when something on the table caught her eye. Next to one of the platters of food were utensils, and among those utensils was a knife. Sonia set down the piece of meat and picked up the knife. It was long and sharp with a serrated edge. Obviously meant for cutting meat or bread. She tightened her grip on the hilt. It could not hurt to have it around.

"That will not be necessary."

The almost calm façade that Sonia had been carefully constructing around herself shattered. With a gasp she held the tightly onto the knife, glancing wildly around the room.

Shit, she thought angrily. Of course there is someone there. She just stuffed her stupid, greedy, fat little face with God knows what. A sedative probably. And now they are just waiting for her to fall over. Idiot!

"I said that will not be necessary," the voice repeated, "I mean you no harm."

That's convenient, she thought bitterly, lucky me. She looked around the room. Where was the voice coming from?

"Of course you don't," she called back, "that's why you're hiding in the shadows. Completely harmless." Sonia looked around the room, trying to pinpoint the location of the voice. "Are you his owner?"

"Owner?"

"Yes, owner," Sonia said with thinly veiled annoyance, "of the giant white dog who came in here just before me but has now disappeared. Is he yours?"

He did not answer right away this time. Sonia thought she saw a flash of movement from one of the shadowy areas beneath the second story landing near some stairs.

"It is not a dog."

Sonia blinked. "What?"

"It is not a dog," the voice repeated with, what sounded like a hint of frustration, "it is a wolf. Not a dog."

Sonia felt her annoyance begin to build. "Sorry. Being kidnapped in the middle of the night has kind of thrown me off a bit."

"You have not been kidnapped. At least not by me."

"Then how did I get here," she demanded.

"Do you truly have no memory of how you came to be here?"

"I have … I don't know," Sonia pressed her hands to her eyes. "The memory I have, it can't be real …" she dropped her hands away from her face and squinted into the shadows, "who are you?"

It was quiet for several seconds before Sonia finally movement once more from the shadowy area beneath the landing. She braced herself. She would not move. She refused to give one step. She did not know what she expected to step out of the darkness, but it certainly was not this.

He was tall man with a lean build, although certainly not thin. He was dressed in a simple loose shit and black pants. His hair fell down in gold waves past his shoulders and his eyes flashed as they caught the light in a peculiar manner. He had delicate features, with high cheekbones and well defined jaw, he was quite handsome. No, handsome did not do him justice. He was beautiful, almost otherworldly. One could not help but be drawn towards him, like a moth to a flame.

But Sonia had been burned quite enough already, perhaps that is why she did not allow herself to be lulled into some sort of false complacency. He was beautiful yes, but there was a haughtiness to it. There was a chill to his gaze, an icy coldness that would most certainly burn if touched. His eyes, while hypnotic, also made the hair on the back of her neck rise. She did not feel danger from this man, but she knew he was dangerous.

Sonia took a step back.

The man in front of her did not approach, he simply raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. He then placed an elegant hand over his chest and gave a slight bow.

"Forgive me, you are correct. Introductions are in order. My name is Alucard. This is my … home." Sonia could not help but notice the slight pause as he said the word home. It seemed to her that for a moment his lip had curled slightly with distaste. But it was gone in a flash and he continued talking. "You are injured and I am certain that your hand will become, if it is not already, infected. Please, allow me to see to your wounds and we can discuss the circumstances of your coming here, for I promise, I am just as confounded as you by your arrival."

* * *

**~oOo~**

Sharp pain lanced through his head as colorful spots flashed in front of his eyes. His whole body had been beaten bloody and even the involuntary act of breathing caused some muscle or bone to ache. He dared not move away though. He knew better than to try to move before they were finished. Searing fiery bursts pulsated around his bruises, intensifying with each ragged breath, jarring and brutal. With each strike the pain amplified, muscles quivered and consciousness ebbed until black mists swirled at the edges of his mind, pulling him into sweet oblivion.

And then, on cue, the beatings would stop and he was left alone once more.

Blood was slowly oozing out of numerous wounds. A small but relentless flow of crimson.

But he felt no pain.

He had learnt a long time ago to shut himself off from the pain. He knew his arms ached, having gone numb some time ago from the constant pressure of the metal cuffs they were encased in. But that was just an irritant. Much like the bone dry feeling of his mouth and the pain that was caused whenever he tried to swallow. Just another irritant is all.

"It pains me to see you like this you know."

Ah, so it would seem the session was not over, not yet. He slowly pushed himself up from the floor, tenderly adjusting his body so he could lean back against the cold stone wall of his cell. A sharp, stabbing pain told him in no uncertain terms that he had a broken rib.

"Such a waste of talent, you being down here," the voice cooed, "I absolutely hate it."

Liar.

"But you insist on bringing this on yourself unfortunately."

The sound of heels clicking on stone echo through the damp air. He winces as a hand grips his chin, pulling his face up as cold clammy fingers comb the hair away from his face. A beautiful pale face gazes down at him, hideous in its perfection. A cold mask, like silk covering a blade. Her touch is not gentle.

"You must work harder Hector, for me. And for you. So that all may be witness to our conquest and you can take your rightful place alongside me. You do want that, don't you Hector? You do want the beatings to stop don't you?"

As if the beatings will ever stop you lying bitch.

"Yes." His voice had sounded clearer than he thought it would considering how much it hurt. The hand that had been smoothing his hair away from his face now painfully gripped a handful of that hair, jerking his head back against the wall. His vision blotches with violent colors that move and merge without pattern or design.

"Then where is my army Hector," the beautiful face snarled softly.

"You … send me … the corpses of women and children," he struggles to breathe and speak, "what is weak … in life is … weak in death. Substandard supplies … equals sub … standard product …."

Those cold unfeeling eyes consider him for a moment. "So you mean to tell me, that if I give you better "supplies" you can give me a better army …."

"Of course … a craftsman can only … work with what's … given …."

An icy gaze, colder than midwinter's dawn, weighs him for several more seconds. Suddenly blood red lips split into a radiant smile and she lets go of him as she stands up, tossing her long silver locks over her shoulder as she laughs. A giddy little school girl.

"My word Hector, why didn't you say so? All you had to do was ask. I shall see to it that you are given supplies worthy of a craftsman of you caliber." She looked down at him with thoughtful concern. A beautiful act. "Hmm, perhaps we have been little too hard on you as of late. Perhaps new quarters will also be arranged and see that you are properly tended to. It would not do to have you looking poorly when I take my throne. The queen's royal Forge Master must command respect as well." She turned and began to leave the cell. "Fetch Rosaly and tell her to clean him up. He has much work to do. I am happy to hear that you have finally come around to how things are Hector. All of these lessons, for the last few months have tormented me to no end you know. I do so want you by my side, you know that yes?"

"Yes," he rasped, "of course."

She stopped at the door of his cell and looked at him from over her shoulder. "Yes what?"

"Yes, my queen."

She smiled brightly at him, like an owner to a naughty puppy who finally learned to heel.

"Good boy," she purred. And then she left, leaving Hector with nothing other than steady throbbing pain … and a seething anger.

She was right about one thing. Hector had brought this on himself. He should have never betrayed Dracula. It was his one and only regret. Had he stayed the course, the human population would be properly controlled and he would not be here.

At least that was what Hector would tell himself, in the early days of his captivity. Now he was not so sure. The last few years as Carmilla's plaything had shown him the true nature of vampires as well. And they were no better than the humans they preyed upon. Still, he should have seen this coming.

He had become over confident in his skills at successfully hiding the vulnerability he had imbued his creations with. Making them instable and nowhere near the ferocity of Dracula's hordes. They were still vicious to be sure, but their life span was not as long, slowly deteriorating after a fortnight.

Most importantly they were loyal to him.

Oh they would take orders from Carmilla and her captains, but that was at his direction alone. If he told them to fall after every fourth excursion, then they would take a blade after every fourth excursion. If he instructed that they overlook children and women, then they would maul every male they came across while the children and women flee. And he made sure that the men they killed were beyond repair for even his forge work. There were some regrettable repercussions to this method of course. This caused Carmilla's forces to kill said women and children to bring to him for forging. But it was a necessary evil. He needed an excuse for the weakness, but more importantly he needed to see that they would do as they were told.

And they did. Without fail.

Now that he knew, Hector would allow for a more sizable product. A sizable product that was loyal to him, and then he could finally get some semblance of revenge on that bitch Carmilla and escape. Hopefully not alone.

Soft footsteps entered the cell, pausing at the entrance before quickening their pace over to where he still sat against the wall. The rattling of keys rang through his ears and he felt a sudden release of pressure on his wrists and the clanking of metal as chains fell to the floor. A hand cupped his face, but Hector did not wince. This was not Carmilla. The hand too warm, the touch too gentle.

Soft fingers slowly brushed blood soaked hair away from his face and he heard a little gasp. Hector smiled in spite of the pain. He forced his eyes to open, and was struck as he always was by what he saw. Even through blurred pain filled vision he could see those beautiful green eyes staring back at him, fill with concern and pain of their own … and love.

It was rather amusing really, how he had come to love Rosaly. Carmilla had sent her to Hector as a torment, as he had always despised human women. He had found them to be plotting vain creatures. Selfish and overbearing. His mother being the cruelest one of all. They had never paid him any mind and if they did it was to recoil in disgust and fear.

But not Rosaly.

She had been sent to him from the very beginning. Most likely as a spy. Hector had ignored her for the most part, simply going about his work. He assumed that she would simply run away in horror as all the others did once he began forging. But not Rosaly. Only she had remained, watching him in his work with fascination and curiosity. Sometimes she would even ask question that Hector would never answer. Several months, even years would go by before he took notice of her.

"You make life out of death here."

The statement had shocked Hector and he turned to look at her, truly look at her. She stood there staring back at him with those bright green eyes, a cat's eyes.

He began to show her then, just what he could do. The art of forging. And it is an art, regardless of what the sheep would say. And Rosaly, and only Rosaly, was the first to appreciate that. Had it not been for her, he would have simply accepted his fate. He would have remained Carmilla's toy, here to do her bidding and suffer through her sadistic whims.

He could never let Carmilla know of his true feelings. It would be her death.

A cool wet cloth brushed across his brow. He took her hand and brought it to bruised lips.

He would save her. He would saver her just as she had saved him. Soon. Very soon.

* * *

**~oOo~**

Sonia kept her gaze on the needle in her hand. She was unsure of the material that had been given to her to stitch the cut on her palm, but that was the least of her worries at the moment. The most pressing thing right now was trying to comprehend what this man Alucard had just told her.

She had been correct when she had assumed she was no longer in New Orleans. Indeed, she was no longer even in the country. She was in Wallachia.

And the year is fourteen ninety two.

Her head began to swim again and she strained to focus on the needle in her hand.

"Please, allow me."

Sonia wanted to protest, she could suture a wound with her eyes closed. But in this instance, she thought perhaps he was right. Long graceful fingers took the needle and thread from her hand and began to stitch with swift deft motions. She could feel his gaze on her periodically, it was impossible not to with those strange eyes of his. She supposed he was checking to make certain she was not going to faint. Fair enough. With everything she had just learned it was a reasonable precaution to take. It might even be a welcome respite. But no, Sonia was not going to black out. Instead she concentrated on the pain, the feel of the needled as it pierced her skin was a welcome familiarity. It helped her to keep her focus.

Sonia looked at the man who was now stitching her hand. Or she tried too. He kept his head down and partially hidden behind a curtain of honey yellow hair. He seemed to avoid looking at her directly. Especially when he would speak; tilting his head slightly down and away. Or place a hand against his chin as if in thought, obscuring his mouth. Sonia could not help but notice. After a few years of working in an emergency department she had learnt to pick up on the odd body language of abuse victims or junkies. Not that she thought this man was either of those. Perhaps it was just some habit from childhood. Perhaps he was hiding something. Maybe he had bad teeth. Oral hygiene was not said to be at the top of the priority list for the dark ages.

Oh God the dark ages ….

Another country. Another time. A strange man she did not know.

Sonia's head began to swirl and she squeezed her eyes shut. The pressure on her hand paused.

"Are you alright?"

Sonia opened her eyes to find his peeking out from the curtain of hair. She found herself struck once more by the color. Like molten gold. It made Sonia think of butterscotch. She could not understand why they seemed so familiar.

"Yes," she tried to sound reassuring, "yes, I'm fine. I just … processing."

Amber eyes flicked back to her hand. "I suppose this is much to take in."

That was a bit of an understatement.

"So … you saw me come through the mirror?"

"I found you after so no, I did not see you come through."

Sonia's felt her hopes raise slightly. "So then I could've traveled some other way?" Only to have them dashed once more.

"No," he said with slight shake of his head. "As I told you before, there was could be no other way for you to enter this castle without my knowledge."

Sonia easily picked up the light tone of irritation at having to repeat himself, but she did not care.

"I suppose it's too much to hope it had been a bad dream," she whispered softly.

With a quick flick of his hand he cut the suture and stood up, walking over to the other end of the table to discard the needle. Had he used scissors? Sonia looked at her hand. The wound was still angry but the stitches were clean. She looked over to where he now stood with his back to her, rummaging through a drawer.

"What did you use?"

He stopped his search and looked over his shoulder at her. She held up her hand.

"The stitching, what did you use?"

He turned back to the drawer. "It is not cat gut if that's what you're worried about. Just silk. It will have to be removed."

He closed the drawer, having found what he was looking for and walked over to where Sonia sat. He placed small rolls of cloth before her.

Sonia looked back down at her hand. She picked up a piece of cloth and began to slowly wrap it around her palm.

"Does this sort of thing happen a lot around here … people falling through mirrors?"

Those bright eyes glanced in her direction only briefly before he turned and began walking to the other end of the table once more. "You are the first," he called over his shoulder.

"And … what did you call it again?"

"A distance mirror."

"And you just have these distance mirrors laying around? For anyone to walk through?"

"Not quite," he stopped at the other end of the table and took a seat. The late afternoon son was pouring in the window behind making him somewhat difficult to see. "I was not even aware that this one was functional till you stumbled through."

"Can I just go back through? Does it have a reverse switch or something?"

"That is … not how these things work."

Sonia felt her frustration starting to build. "Well then how does it work?"

"It depends on the mirror. Some are simply for viewing while others are capable of transferring matter. But I have never heard of one capable of bending time. I am afraid the details of how something like this would operate may be too much for you comprehend. I myself am a little vague in my knowledge. I am afraid that I have much research to do in the oncoming days ahead."

Sonia knew she say something. An unfeeling mask though his face may be, he was being a condescending ass. But something he had said stuck out.

This man, Alucard, or whatever his name was, did not have the answers. He would have to research this. It would take several days. There would be no definitive timeline on when she would have answer. No idea on when she would get home. What was she to do while he researched? Where would she go? And what if there was no answer? What if she never saw home again? What then?

"In the meantime," he continued, interrupting Sonia's building panic, "you should remain here of course. You may roam freely about the grounds during the day, although I would advise you to stay away from the ruins on the eastern side. But once the sun is down, it would be best if you remain indoors. Preferably within your rooms. It is far too dangerous for one like you out there. So if you could please refrain from anymore late night excursions, it would be most appreciated."

For one like her?

"I'm not an invalid," she mumbled.

"Pardon?"

Sonia looked across the table at that flawlessly serene face. He was lecturing her, she was certain, but it was lacking even the slightest bit of empathy. Almost robotic. He had all the emotion of wet concrete.

Sonia was tired and hurt, but she was not incapable. She had been through enough and was not about to be put on some sort of lock down. Not that she planned on really going anywhere but that was not the point. The point was that she was not going to be treated like a child. She desperately needed to hold on to some part of herself in all this madness. Might as well start asserting herself now.

"I'm not an invalid," Sonia looked down at her hand. No. That was not her fault. That is a defensive wound. "… I know it may seem that way right now, but I'm not. I am capable of taking care of myself."

He stared at her from across the table, his head tilted slightly. "Of course."

"I'm a doctor," she practically blurted. That did not come out the way she intended at all.

"So you said."

Now what the hell did that mean? Still, she persisted.

"I'm studying to be one anyway … that's not the point."

"What is the point?"

"The point is …," what was the point? She was dealing with a lot, certainly he could see that. Her entire world had just been turned upside down and backwards … literally. She was not thinking at full capacity, she could admit that. And this man, this Alucard, was behaving as one would in an established patriarchal society. But that was not where Sonia was from. And she was not about to conform now. She had dealt with being a woman in a male dominated profession and proved herself admirably. She could certain do the same with this pretty little antique. Not to mention that right now at this moment she needed a purpose most of all or else she feared she would lose her mind, if she had not already. "… the point is I can comprehend more that you think so just tell me about these goddamn mirrors."

Sonia fought the urge to cringe. It was the best she could come up with on the spot and even then it was pretty pathetic.

The mask across the room considered her for a moment. Sonia felt as if she were being placed upon a scale and weighed. Finally, with a sigh that Sonia would have thought sounded resigned if she believed he was capable of that much emotion, he folded his arms across his chest.

"They are old. Very old. Not many exist and those that do are rarely functional. They are easily damaged you see. All it takes is one misplaced cracked piece of glass or damage to the runes and it is useless. For a viewing mirror, if all is in order, the concept is simple enough. Have a fixed point in your mind, a clear focus of your subject or destination. Visualizing a location can be as easy as calling on an old memory. But to transfer matter, you must visualize in three dimensions. Like coordinates - length, width, height. It is no small task. And only possible for the user to go from mirror to the desired location. But you, you did not just pass from one place to another. You passed through one mirror and out another. You passed through time as well."

When he began speaking, it had reminded Sonia of one of the many lectures she had attended; emotionless, bland, and tedious. But when he arrived to the topic of her mirror, she began to notice some changes in his demeanor, a slight animation to his step. He spoke now as if he were talking to himself, rationalizing some hypothesis that had never been considered before.

"The mirror you used was capable of accessing a fourth dimension, somehow capable of bending space – time to where, in theory, the time line was turned back on itself," he was animated now. Sonia blinked as he flew around the room, grabbing items along the way, "making properties of space fairly interchangeable with properties of time therefore a curved path through space becomes a curved path through time." Suddenly he was standing next to her, setting strips of silk down on the table before her. "To a moderate degree this would only allow say," he stretched the strips out, "two straight lines of different lengths to connect the same points in space. But to an extreme degree," he now took the end of the silk and moved them into a circular pattern, "it could allow lines to curve around in a circle and reconnect with the past."

He leaned over her now. It was the closest he had ever come. Even while he sutured her hand he had kept her at arm's length, never fully facing her. But now he looked directly at her. His eyes shone bright with excitement Sonia had not thought him capable of only moments before. She thought he may actually smile.

But then it was gone. He quickly straightened upright and turned away, moving back towards the other end of the table, all stiff and proper once more.

"But, this only a theory and a relative one at that. And without the proper runes, it may be impossible. Do you happen to remember what they looked like?"

Sonia's brow furrowed as she struggled to remember. "No not really. Everything from that night is kind of hazy to be honest. One minute I was cleaning it and then another …" she held up her hands, gesturing around her.

"Hmm …," was all he replied. As he looked at her his eyes seem to catch the dimming light in a most disconcerting manner. And yet also strangely familiar. "Come. The hour grows late and you should return to your room."

Sonia wanted to protest but instead she found herself hurrying to catch up as he moved at a steady pace out of the room and down the hall. It was not long before they were at the door of her room. Upon entering he walked over to the water filled basins and picked the larger one up and walked to the window where he poured it outside. Sonia made the note that he was stronger than he looked. He walked back over to the door.

"Wait," Sonia called out. That was it? He was just going to leave her here? He turned halfway to look at her over his shoulder. "So … what do you do … what about when I have to … go to … relieve …"

Without even acknowledging her discomfort, he walked over to the bed and reached underneath, pulling out a large pot. Sonia blinked.

"Oh."

He began to walk across the room to where there a narrow door that Sonia had not noticed. He opened it revealing a small closet type space with a hole in the floor and what looked to be a faucet in the wall.

"Once you are done, you turn the valve here and pour the contents down there. The water is pulled up from a spring beneath the castle."

"Can you drink it? The water I mean."

"I suppose," he said giving her a strange look, "although I do not know why you would."

He closed the door then and walked back across the room to leave. He stopped suddenly and turned, clasping his hands behind his back.

"You must forgive me. This castle is not accustomed to visitors and neither am I. I was going to the village tomorrow to seek out the tailor to adjust the existing clothing I do have and possible make you more since we do not know how long you will be here, or I can find you other accommodations. But I see now I may need to find some staff to tend to the day to day needs that I cannot. This task will be difficult as there are not many of the villagers who would be willing to come out here. I am afraid the castle has somewhat of a reputation."

"Oh? They think it's haunted," Sonia said lightheartedly.

"Something like that. If you will excuse me …" He began to close the door behind him.

"Are your rooms down the hall," Sonia called out. He stopped and looked at her from over his shoulder once more. "In case I should need or remember something …"

He did not speak right away. Sonia did not think she could be in this place alone.

"I will remain here, yes." And then he closed the door.

Sonia stood there in the center of the room. She felt an overwhelming urge to cry again. But she would not. Not anymore. She refused. She had to find a way out of here. She was going to find a way out of here. A way home. She just wished she did not feel so … alone.

Sonia searched through the armoire till she found something she felt she could sleep comfortably in and then she went and stared at the chamber pot till she could not hold it anymore. When she was done, she quickly and carefully dumped everything down the hole and rinsed her hands vigorously under the water. She chided herself for being such a ninny. It was any different from changing a bedpan at the hospital. At least not that different.

Once all that was done, Sonia climbed up onto the bed. She pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on top of them. Being alone brought back the crushing reality of her situation. She would even be happy if her mannequin of a host were still here. At least she would not be alone. She concentrated on her breathing. Inhale and exhale. She was not going to panic. She would find a way home. She was not going to panic.

A soft scratching and slow creak of the door grabbed Sonia's attention and she looked to see her friend sitting at the far end of the room. Sonia's face split into a huge grin.

"Hey boy," she called out with pure joy, "where have you been?"

Sonia pulled back the covers and patted the space next to her. Her friend loped over to the side of the bed and jumped up on it, flopping down next to her with a huff. Sonia could not help but laugh softly as she curled up next to him, wrapping her arms around him and soaking up the comfort of his warmth.

"You," she said with a kiss to the top of his head, "are a sight for sore eyes."

Her friend responded with a resigned sigh, but Sonia did not care. She held him tight against her, knowing she was safe.


	4. Chapter 4

Alucard adjusted his coat as he attempted to make himself comfortable on the hard bench. It was not made for comfort but for durability, much like everything else in the small cabin he sat in. Hardwood floors with a large fireplace in the middle of the main room for warmth as well as meal preparation. Pots and pans of various sizes dangled from hooks and beams around it. A worn ladder led to a small loft made into a designated storage area filled with piles of cloth and furs and beneath the loft a desk covered in discarded papers and books assorted into several stacks around it. In all, just another unremarkable cabin among many that populated the land, at least at first glance.

Behind the fireplace, a frayed and tattered piece of cloth hung as a makeshift room divider one would assume was for designating a sleeping space. And to a degree, they would be right. There most certainly was a small cot used for sleep. There were also tables covered with vials and containers, some over small burners with bubbling liquid within. Books with what some would claim were forbidden symbols, but the enlightened would recognize as formulas or equations. Various plants and herbs hung from the ceiling, while others were ground up into dust and set onto scales. Alchemy, or the devil’s work, depending on your point of view. Either way, it was why he was here.

Alucard watched as small, wiry fellow who inhabited the cabin rummaged around, muttering to himself. Giovanni Gandolfi was not an old man, although he had a habit of puttering like one. Short messy black hair sat atop his head, the only grooming it had more than likely seen was when long thin fingers raked through it in frustration. He would be considered tall if he were to ever stand up straight. He was so often hunched over in thought or over a book it was hard to tell. Large circular glasses sat on a prominent nose that was smudged with ink from being pushed back into place by fingers that were stained with it. Quills poked out of every pocket on his person causing ink spots to appear on all of his clothing that often looked wrinkled as if worn for several days before being discarded. But in spite of his appearance, he was easily one of the great alchemists of this age. His family had lived in the area for generations, serving the Belmont clan. It was how Alucard came to know him, sometimes sitting in the small cabin till the early hours of the morning discussing the endless wealth of theories and mysteries that Giovanni obsessed over. One of the last few humans Alucard had contact with.

Alucard waited patiently as Giovanni stood before the fireplace, one hand on his hip as the other scratched absently at his head, a look of consternation on his face. He more than likely had forgotten what he was looking for in the first place. He suddenly yelped in triumph as he grabbed a small cup that hung from the mantle only to resume his look of consternation when he discovered the tea kettle empty. Alucard smiled.

“I erm ...” Giovanni glanced around the roomed, “I have some ... tea, yes ... somewhere ...” his voice trailed off to the absent muttering once more.

“It is alright Giovanni,” Alucard reassured. “I am more interested in your views on what I told you.”

“Ah, yes. That’s interesting. Time travel you say? Through the mirrors?” Giovanni continued to move about the cabin as he spoke, fetching water from a barrel with the kettle and placing it over the fire. “I suppose it could be feasible. Yes, quite feasible. Why not? We know the mirrors allow you to look at places far away or move matter through them. Why not through time as well? Perhaps creating a hole in time for one to move through? Distorting, bending time and space? Although, I would imagine there would be some risk.”

“Risk?”

“Well, ah yes, I mean, in theory, one could go back and completely alter the timeline couldn’t they. I mean, imagine if you yourself were to travel back and stop your mother from meeting your father. While you bring a stop to what happened from her death, would you then cease to exist? I mean, your future depends on their meeting. Would you simply disappear with that reality gone and another now in its place or would you be trapped in that time? Would altering the timeline cause it to collapse on itself? Or would it continuously try to rectify the change?”

Alucard tapped his fingers against the table in thought. “That had occurred to me, but I don’t believe that could be a problem. A possibility perhaps, but not an immediate problem. She has not only traveled through time, but to a different location entirely. Nowhere near the lands her family is from.”

“Oh. Well, I suppose that is good. Although it brings the next question why she was sent here. To this specific location and this specific time.”

“What do you mean?” Alucard’s brow furrowed slightly.

“Well, the mirrors are not random correct? One must have some semblance of a destination in mind for them to be of use yes?”

“Yes.”

“Ah yes, well then that would leave one to conclude that, whether it was her or someone else, they had a reasonably clear image of the destination in mind.”

The tea kettle began to let out a high pitched whistle. Giovanni walked over and took the kettle from the hook and poured the steaming hot liquid into cups.

“She was sent here intentionally,” something else Alucard had thought of.

“Or she sent herself here intentionally,” Giovanni shrugged as he handed a cup to Alucard.

“I do not believe that to be the case,” Alucard said.

“Why?”

“Because she is as much at a loss as to how she came here as I am.”

“Oh? Are we taking her at her word?” Alucard smiled. Giovanni did not present the question in suspicion or doubt but as simply a way to make sure he had all the variables for the equation.

“Yes.”

“Well then, either someone sent her here or not.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, ah, I mean we can’t leave out the possibility that this was just some accident. Ah, you did say that she was cleaning or adjusting the mirror in someway. Could she have just fallen through.”

Alucard chuckled as he brought his cup to his lips. After all that had happened in the woods he could see her of all people stumbling blindly through the mirror with no idea of what she was doing. But that was not how the mirrors worked.

“No. That is impossible. The magic does not work that way.” Does it?

“No? Ah, alright, then she was sent here.”

“Wait,” Alucard said suddenly, the realization striking him then. The magic does not work that way. The magic of the mirrors does not work that way. But what of magic of the blood? What of Bloodborne magic? Alucard looked to see Giovanni, cup halfway to his lips, waiting for him to speak. “Giovanni, have you ever heard of Bloodborne magic?”

“Magic of the blood?” Giovanni blinked as his nose scrunched up in distaste as he set his cup down on the table. He was not fond of the word or even the idea of magic. As far as Giovanni was concerned there was nothing that could not be explained with enough investigation. To claim it was ‘magic’ was unacceptable to him. “Oh well now, that is something isn’t it? The myth of being born with the ability to call the elements. To manipulate them even. Those are just stories though. And even if they did exist, they had been hunted to the point of extinction by Dracula ... erm, no offense.”

Alucard dismissed the comment with a casual wave. It was true. His father was a very predominant reason as to why there were none with the gift any longer.

“She is Bloodborne Giovanni.”

“Are you certain?” There was no skepticism or doubt in his voice, simply a need for facts.

“Yes.”

“Ah, well then, this ah, this changes things indeed,” Giovanni’s lit up as he stood and began to pace the length of the table. “Yes, I mean ... you combine the elements of the mirror with the ah, innate abilities of one with the gift then, well, who knows what could happen? Could it have warped the mirror somehow? Creating the bend in time? I mean, now with this information, she could have very well affected the mirror somehow. Did the mirror react to her blood? How strong in the gift is she and could that play a part as well? Was she using it when she was at the mirror and was somehow pulled in? This opens so many more variables yes?”

As Giovanni spoke Alucard set his cup down on the table and folded his arms across his chest. This did bring up new questions.

“If she was using her powers at the mirror when this happened then it was not intentional. I do not believe she is even aware of what she is capable of. I only discovered what she was by chance. I don’t think she even knows when she is summoning.”

“You have seen her summon?”

“Briefly yes.”

“Oh, oh, well, oh my. Yes,” Giovanni was becoming quite animated now. He flew about the cabin, grabbing parchment and ink, “yes well, what happened? Was there some sign of what was to happen? And what was the result? Did it wear her down? And what happened to what it was directed at? You know, it has been at least, oh a century since someone has walked in the open with the ability. I may even have some literature in the back. You most certainly should, within the castle certainly if not the Belmont hold.”

Alucard sat silent, staring at the table, Giovanni’s voice becoming nothing more than a buzzing in the back of his head. This complicated things. If her magic did play some part in her coming here, he was certain that she would not have even the slightest clue as to how she would duplicate it. Yes, it most certainly brought up new questions and many new complications.

“Alucard, what do you think?”

Alucard’s snapped up. He realized that Giovanni had been speaking the entire time. “Forgive me Giovanni, I was lost in thought for a moment. Ask again?”

“Yes, yes of course,” if Giovanni was the least of all bothered by Alucard’s rudeness, he did not show it. He more than likely did not even notice it. “I was saying perhaps I could research the hold for you.”

Alucard smiled. Giovanni had been itching to go within the Belmont hold for as long as Alucard knew him. The only thing that kept Alucard from allowing him was his fear that he would never see him again. Even now he was hesitant to allow it. It meant there would be yet another person within the castle and hold.

“Giovanni, were you able to see to the other request I had?”

“Request ... what ... oh! Yes!” Giovanni had looked at Alucard blankly before it dawned on him what he was being asked. “Yes the staff you need. Yes, well ah, it wasn’t easy mind you. I’m afraid that there aren’t many who are too eager to come to the castle, in spite of knowing of Dracula’s demise. In fact I was run out of quite a few establishments. Not very friendly, some of these people. And I talked to everyone who would let me. But even with the promise of pay they weren’t having it. But ah, I am pleased to report I was able to find someone that would accept.”

It did not surprise Alucard that many of the villagers would not be receptive to the offer of employment at the castle. Even though Alucard would be offering handsome pay for the work, the castle was too much of a symbol of darker times. Who ever took the offer would be peculiar people to say the least.

“Who?”

“Yes well ... a young man named Cornell and his younger sister and son, Ada and Henry.”

Alucard winced at the number of people. Three. Four with the girl. His entire world was shattering before his very eyes. Something about Giovanni’s expression told him that that was not all.

“What is it,” he prompted.

Giovanni fidgeted with the hem of his wrinkled shirt. “Well, ah see now, there’s something you should know about Cornell ... he’s a shapeshifter.”

Alucard tensed, his jaw clenching. Werewolves.

“You would send me a mongrel,” Alucard’s voice dropped dangerously low.

“Now, now, Cornell is a good man, no mongrel as you say,” Giovanni reassured. “Yes he is a shapeshifter, but that was not his choice and he has nothing to do with the more ... darker elements of his people. Much like you.”

Alucard visibly roiled at this. “He is nothing like me.”

“Oh, I don’t know,”Giovanni shrugged, unfazed by Alucard’s indignation, “you’re actually quite similar when you look at it. You are both half human. Both wayward sons who have turned away from the dark paths of your kind. Both quite into self torment. And ah, both in no position to refuse the other as I cannot find anyone else who will come to the castle and he cannot find employment anywhere else.”

Alucard closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. Giovanni’s tone was never once condescending, never once lecturing. He was simply stating facts.

“You can feel free to inquire in the village yourself if you would like.”

Alucard gave him a flat look. That statement may have contained a light sprinkling of sarcasm in it. They both knew that was not going to happen anyway.A tired sigh escaped him.

“Fine. I will expect them in the morning.”

“Good, good, yes. Very good. Ah now, what about me?”

Alucard looked at Giovanni. “What about you?”

“The hold? Will I be able search the hold? For what we spoke about?”

Alucard could hear what remained for any hope of solitude crash to the ground behind him, the shattered tinkling of glass that was his life.

“Why not.”

Giovanni practically squealed. “Good! Yes, very, very good! I will come in the morning as well yes? I will have to get a wagon for, ah my things of course. And I will need a space for research yes? I have many projects that I cannot stop now with. Too close you know, too close to the answers! Yes, yes ...”

Alucard watched as the thin little man began to move about the room in a flurry of activity. Parchment rustled and quills were gathered as Giovanni continued to mutter excitedly to himself. Alucard began to turn towards the door before remembering one more thing.

“Oh, and Giovanni ...”

The thin little man paused mid-mutter to look up at Alucard, one or two pieces of parchment falling to the floor from the pile cradled in his arms.

“You should poor our the kettle. I don’t think those were tea leaves you brewed.”

Giovanni blinked at Alucard card several times in confusion from behind thick glasses before they went wide with realization. He looked at the kettle in horror.

“Oh! Oh dear! Oh no, Alucard ... I am so sorry. I ... I don’t know how ... oh, I hope it wasn’t the oleander leaves again. Oh my, I should move those. Yes, I should move those ...” Giovanni moved back and forth, not wanting to drop the armful of parchment and yet wanting to get the kettle.

“Allow me.” Alucard walked over to the fireplace and took the kettle. It was better that he just go ahead and dispose of the contents himself. Knowing Giovanni, he would simply become distracted once more and forget only to return to the kettle later to have some tea.

“You know Giovanni, with your permission I would like to keep this. I have been in need of one for some time.”

In fact, Alucard decided to just dispose of the kettle completely. It was not the first time Giovanni had accidentally poisoned him and while it would not kill him, it would leave him with a rather distressed stomach for several hours.

“Oh ah, yes, of course Alucard. I’m not even certain as to why I even have one anyway. I’m not even fond of tea. Ah, please, it’s yours. It’s the least I can do.”

Once he was outside and a good distance from the cabin, Alucard chucked the kettle into the woods with a sigh.

And now there were five.

Things were becoming quite crowded rather quickly.

Upon returning he went straight to the hold. He did not wish to go to the castle at the moment. He was more than likely going to have to move back into it very soon anyway. There was no possible way he would be able to remain down here with Giovanni was puttering around talking to himself the entire time. Upon thinking of Giovanni his stomach gave a slight twinge. Alucard winced. A portend of things to come he supposed. No, he was not going to return to the castle just yet. He wished to enjoy these last few moments of complete solitude while he still could.

As he walked along the endless dark silent shelves of Belmont history, he went over the laundry list of tasks he had seen to. He had made sure a tailor would see to the necessary clothing for the girl. A horse and wagon may also be necessary. A larder would have to be stocked. Perhaps even a small parcel of land would be needed for harvesting. He would have to instruct the staff on where.

Alucard’s thoughts came to an abrupt halt. Staff. The castle would soon have staff. What the hell was happening? All this for some girl who fell through the looking glass. There had to be a solution for returning her to where she belongs. He could not have this many people here.

Still, he supposed her presence has not been all that tedious. It was not fair for him to lay all of the blame on her either. He should have seen to the mirror some time ago. It was careless for him to assume that it had been rendered inoperable in that chaos.

There was no doubt that this was just as trying for her as well. One only had to listen to her rambling at night to know that she struggled. It was the only time she let her guard down. When he would see her in the halls as he was now she rarely said much, remaining cautious and reserved. He kept his words to a minimum, always careful not to allow her to see his teeth. He did not want to frighten her. She already seemed wary of him, something he could not understand since he went out of his way to be polite.

But at night, when he was in wolf form, she would lay herself bare. Literally. 

Her penchant for going nude at night was a little unnerving at times. He would always look away, something she found amusing. But he tolerated it. Only because his wolf form seemed to bring her some comfort, allowing her a few precious moments of respite from her world being upended. It was the only time she smiled. And so he tolerated it. He would tolerate her need for contact. Or the way she needed his presence to fall asleep. He would tolerate how she would kiss his face and the warmth from her body as it curved gently around his.

Alucard stopped and wiped at his forehead. It was damp. Giovanni’s tea must be starting to take affect.

He began to walk back to where his coffin lay when noise caught his attention. It was barely there, a soft clicking noise. Like a pebble being dropped. He thought for a moment that was just some lose rubble, it still happened from time to time. But when it happened again, the singular clinking noise, he no longer thought it was random. He began to walk towards the entrance, or what was left of it, only to stop at the edge of the shadows. At the top of the cavern stood Sonia, peering down into the darkness below, dropping pebbles.

Alucard felt a flash of irritation. She stood at the edge like some child ignorant of the dangers. There was no way for her to come down here. The stairs had never been repaired and he had never needed for them to be. But the ground around the edge was still unstable. She could fall through. And he had told her to stay away from the eastern side of the castle.

An ignorant child.

* * *

 

Sonia pulled at the dress she wore as she walked along the grounds outside the castle. Nothing seemed to fit correctly. She would lace the dress up but it never seemed to close completely so now she took to wearing what she thought were shirts beneath it so she would not feel exposed. At least the weather was pleasant so she did not feel a draft. The sun was beginning its descent but there was still plenty of daylight left. Enough for her to try and enjoy being outside and maybe learn more about her surroundings. Especially since she had no idea how long she would be here.

Sonia shuddered slightly. The thought unsettled her every time she had it. She could not quite come to grips with it. There had to be some way for her to go home. If it was possible to come here then it had to be possible to go back. Unless this door only opened one way ....

Sonia folded her arms across her chest, stifling another shudder. She would not think that way. She could not.

She supposed she should be grateful. At least her host was gracious. Who knows where she could have been zapped too if not here. But then, anywhere else would have to have one of those mirrors ... would it not?

The mirrors. She wanted to see the one she came through here but had not ventured out in the castle as of yet to find it. She was a bit nervous to do so, to be honest. She was afraid the hallways would begin to play it’s mind tricks and she would become lost again. No, she did not dare try it again, not without her friend.

The thought of him caused her to look around the grounds, but to no avail. He was nowhere to be seen. He would come to her room every night. It seemed to Sonia that he was starting to become accustomed to the nightly routine. He even would go straight to the bed now and wait for her. She no longer received the annoyed glances or irritated huffs when she would scratch at his ears or kiss his nose. Often he would push his head beneath her hand when she would stop scratching or nuzzle his nose against her neck when she would lay down to sleep.

But then she would wake in the morning and he would be gone. Off with his owner she supposed.

His owner. That was an entirely different list of concerns. 

He seemed nice enough. It was hard to tell though. On the rare occasions she did see him in the halls or for dinner he rarely said more than a few words to her. When he did speak he never looked directly at her, always keeping his head tilted and slightly turned, as if looking at her sideways. It was unnerving. She wanted to grab his face and force him to look at her. Probably not the best idea she ever had, but then she was frustrated.

Sonia stopped and adjusted her dress once more. She looked around a realized she had almost walked the entire perimeter of the castle. The sun was behind her now, causing her shadow to stretch long across the ground. She looked to see that she had come upon ruins. These must be the same ruins she had stumbled on that first night here.

It looked to be the remains of a some house. Most of it was grown over with moss and trees. Ivy creeped along what was left of the rotting framework. Tiny little purple flowers peeked out from the remnants of stairs and a fireplace. She wondered what had happened. It seemed as if the castle had been built over a portion of the ruins, had they moved out after building the castle? How large had it been? It seemed to Sonia that it may have been sizable.

Those thoughts were confirmed when she came to what must have once been the entrance to the basement. Now it was nothing more than a large gaping hole. A very large gaping hole.

Sonia approached cautiously approached the edge and peered down into the darkness. How far did it go down? It seemed as if there was no end.

Sonia grabbed a small rock and dropped it into the black where it disappeared. It took a long time for the sound of it reaching the bottom to echo back to her ears. She must not have heard correctly. There was no way it could have taken that long to reach the bottom. She grabbed a slightly larger rock and dropped it into the darkness and waited ... and waited ... and waited till she finally heard the tick tick ticking of the rock bouncing at the bottom.

That is impossible. There is no way it is that deep. She was about to grab another rock when a sudden cool breeze blew up from the pitch black. A bird or bat must have been disturbed by her little experiment and flew out of the cavern below. Sonia felt herself teeter slightly at the edge and was about to step back when she felt something slide around her waist, pulling her away.

“I told you to stay away from the eastern side of the castle,” a low voice hissed from behind her.

What the hell.

For a moment, Sonia could not move. Everything had happened so quickly. She stood several feet back from the opening now and there was an arm that held her firmly by the waist. It took only a second more to realize who it belonged to.

“Aluard?” Sonia grabbed ahold of his arm but did not push away, she was still stunned. How had they gotten back so far and so quickly?

“The ground is unstable. Just walking over it could unsettle already unstable framework. It is not safe for you to be here.”

Sonia gathered her wits and was immediately aware that her back was pressed against his chest. She twisted slightly in an attempt to wriggle out of his grasp. He must have realized that he still held her as well, for he quickly released her and took a step back.

“Forgive me, but I did tell you to stay away from the east end,” he said again.

Sonia adjusted her dress with an irritated yank. Had he been standing behind her the entire time?

“How was I supposed to know,” she snapped back. “It’s not like there are any signs that say “east end” or anything.”

If he was bothered by her tone he did not show it, much to her annoyance. He simply stared at her in that strange sideways manner of his that bothered her so much. Sonia met his stare unblinking. She remembered now that he did say something about staying away from a particular area, but really, how was she to know. She had no idea which was east, and it was not like she had a compass on her. She gave her dress another irked tug.

“I have seen to acquiring a staff for the castle. A task I now see was long over due. They will be seeing to any needs you may have, including proper fitting attire.”

She watched as he turned to head back to the castle. For reasons unknown to Sonia, that comment seemed to ruffle her even more.

“What’s wrong with my clothes?”

Sonia fought the urge to wince as he turned back to look at her. It was a stupid question of course. Anyone could see something was wrong with her clothes. He considered her for a moment before he spoke.

“The clothes were not made for you, therefore they do not fit properly. And you have been wearing your dress backwards.”

Sonia felt her face go warm as she looked down at her chest.

“It laces in the back? Seriously? Well that’s just ridiculous. A person can’t even dress themselves like that.”

Sonia looked back up to see that he still stared at her, head tilted and slightly turned, but with what looked to be a hint of smile on his face. Perhaps it was because she was not used to seeing any expression on his face at all, or maybe it was because she simply was not used to having any company other than her four legged friend, but that small tiny hint of a smile seemed to change his entire countenance at that moment. She felt a smile of her own coming in spite of her embarrassment. She might have even started laughing, if not for the sudden grimace he made as he bent over slightly holding his stomach.

Sonia moved quickly over to where he was bent over and tried to peer through his hair to see his face, uncertain of whether she should touch him.

“Alucard? Are you alright?”

When all she got in response was a short grunt, she set her reservations aside. She pushed his hair back and away from his face and could see a sheen of sweat on his brow. She placed her palm against his forehead and gasped.

“Oh my God, you’re burning up.”

“I’m fine,” he said, his voice breathy. “I just ... ate something that did not agree with me.”

Sonia ignored his feeble attempts to swat her hands away. Her training was kicking in now. People who were sick and did not want help was something she was familiar with; it was something she could handle. She took his arm and placed it over his shoulder. It was her turn now to grab his waist.

“Whatever. Let’s get you inside.”

They made their way into the castle and after no small amount of arguing, he finally allowed her to take him to what she assumed was his rooms. It seemed to be a large study. All of the walls were lined with shelves that were stacked with books. How many books did this guy read? Sonia glanced around the room but did not see a bed, so she settled on what looked to be a sort of chaise lounge type of chair and set him down. She did not see anything for water and since she did not know where the kitchens were, she went to the only place she could find any. She ran back to her rooms and grabbed the basin and a wash rag. She impressed herself when she managed to return to the study without getting lost. She must be getting used to the place.

He was still in the chaise where she had left him. He lay there, as still as stone, the only the slow rise and fall of his chest gave away that he was alive.

She set the basin down on the floor next to him. The water was not cold, but it was cool enough. She had only used it this morning to splash her face, it was not like she bathed in it. She hoped he would not mind. She took the rag and placed it on his forehead. She thought she saw one eye open slightly to look at her and then closed once more. Sonia had a feeling of deja-vu come over her.

She looked him over. If he ate something that was bad, then his body would try to work it out. All she could really do is make sure he stayed hydrated and keep the fever down. She had nothing else. Mint and ginger might be something she could give him for his stomach but where would she find it. It was not like she could just run out and get some zofran for the nausea. She could try to make him more comfortable though, as he was still in his coat and boots. She had just began to pull gently at the collar of his overcoat when his hands suddenly covered hers. Both eyes were open now and staring at her. She found herself startled at the intensity of the color, like molten gold. Once again, the strong feeling of dejavu.

“What are you doing Sonia,” he asked softly.

Sonia paused for a moment. What was she doing?

“I ... I was just trying to help you get your coat ... I thought you would be more comfortable with your coat, without your coat.”

He released her hands and slowly sat up, his face now inches from her own, and began to shrug out of his coat. Sonia quickly busied herself with grabbing the rag that had fallen from his forehead and set it back into the basin. Once he had removed the coat completely, Sonia set it aside. She went back to the basin and rinsed the wash cloth. After she had wrung it out she turned to find that he had lain back down with his eyes closed once more.

Sonia stared at him. She had never come this close to him like this. He had always kept his face partially turned away. She could see his face clearly. A graceful brow line followed by a straight nose, fine cheekbones and a well defined jaw. Gone was the cold emotionless mask she was so used to seeing. Here in this moment, there was just a man at rest. And he was quite beautiful. Even the strange color of eyes only added to his otherworldly beauty. The color of honey and burnt copper. And they reminded her of ... what did they remind her of? She struggled to remember as she stared at them, the deep golden hues within seemed to burn back at her ... wait ... his eyes were staring back at her ...

... his eyes were open ...

... and he was staring at her ... staring at him ...

Sonia blinked as she realized that he had been watching her as she ogled him. With a squeak she practically slapped the wet piece of cloth down on his face causing him to give a little jump.

“If you need something ...”

Sonia never finished the sentence as she hurried out of the study and ran to her rooms.

* * *

 

Alucard slowly pulled the damp rag from his face. What had just happened back there? What was he doing? He sat up, his elbows resting on his knees and his head in his hands. What the hell was he doing?

* * *

 

Sonja did not leave her rooms again that night. If he needed anything he would know where to find her. She hoped he would not need anything.

She was not sure of exactly what happened back there. Whatever it was she was thoroughly embarrassed. She must be suffering from Stockholm syndrome. Was that possible when you were not kidnapped? It was not like she was being held against her will ... but then it was not like she had anywhere else she could go. Either way Sonia was mortified.

As she lay in bed she heard her door slowly creak open followed by the familiar sound of paws softly padding across the wood floor. After a moment the pressure of another being on the bed caused the mattress to sink as they flopped down next to her. Sonia rolled over to see her friend laying next to her, his eyes two thin slits glowing in the dark. He let out a low whine.

“Hey boy,” she said softly, “where you been?”

She was answered with another low plaintive whine.

“Are you not feeling good either? You had some of what your dad had huh?”

Sonia rolled over and pulled the blankets over the two of them. She gave him some gentle scratches along his back and ears. He sighed at her touch.

“Well, at least I helped someone feel better tonight,” she chuckled as she scratched his head. “I’m afraid you dad might think I am crazy though. And you know what? He may be right. I’m not sure how much longer I can just sit here with nothing to do. I don’t know if I can make it without something to do ...”

Sonia wiped at the tears that had begun to flow and cursed softly. She was not going to cry. She felt something wet on her cheek and realized her friend was licking the tears on her face. Sonia grinned.

“Are you giving me kisses,” giggled as she grabbed his head and covered it with kisses of her own. “Who’s a sweet boy? Who’s a good little pupper giving kisses?”

Sonia was answered with a low growl this time.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop,” she laughed. “You know, I wonder what your dad would think about you coming in here every night like this. Somehow, I don’t think he would approve ...” Sonia adjusted herself so she could bury her face in his fur and welcomed the heavy feel of sleep come over her. “Stockholm syndrome or no, he is good looking.”

Her friend just sighed.

 

 

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Trevor finished tying off the feed bags for the horses and made his way back over to the wagon, his shoulders hunched against the cool evening breeze, and cursed once more. He hated the cold. There was no real respite to be found here. There was no tavern or ale. Plenty of discomfort though. From the little light that broke through the clouds he knew the sun was setting. He would need to get a fire started soon. The chill in the night air could cut a man to the bone. Only a fool would be out here during the day, much less at night. He had been starting to wonder just what exactly he was doing out here more and more as of late.

His mind would wander to thoughts of taking Sypha and Simon and simply leaving, going somewhere far from this life. Perhaps he could have his own bloody tavern. The idea of being snug in a common room full of music and a pint of mulled wine, listening to others tell tales from the road was becoming more and more appealing. Living to enjoy the twilight of his years going grey with Sypha safe by his side and watch Simon start a family of his own sounded even better. Just leave it all behind.

But that was not to be. That was not what fate had in mind. What he had were obligations he could not walk a way from. The innocent died right along with the guilty. And if he did nothing, then only the innocent died. Maybe even worse than that, depending on what got a hold of you.

Trevor scowled irritably. Now he was becoming some sort of blasted philosopher! For fuck’s sake.

“If you keep making that face, it will get stuck that way.”

Trevor looked up to see Sypha walking around the other side of the wagon. She had been setting wards around the perimeter of the camp to warn them if anyone or anything should approach. She brushed her hands together in satisfaction as she walked over to where he stood.

“No wood for the stove,” she asked with a playful nudge.

“I was busy with the horses, thank you very much,” he sniffed.

Sypha gave him one of those little smiles that women give, the ones where they know something you do not.

“I remember a time when you could see to the horses and have the stove fired up and roaring before I made it to the other side of the wagon,” her smile became mischievous, “you’re getting old.”

“I am old,” he corrected.

“If you say so,” Sypha’s smile went secretive again. Women had a smile for everything. “I will gather kindling if you see to my bag in the wagon. I was able to purchase some meat pies from the last village.”

Trevor did not bother to ask her what she meant by that comment. Women liked nothing better than making you defend yourself, and once you started, she had already won.

His stomach gave a sharp gurgle. He had to admit he was hungry. He made his way to the back of the wagon and climbed the stairs inside.

The wagon was small. When he had first purchased it, it had two small beds that folded up against the wall and little cast iron stove in the corner. Trevor had made a few modifications since then. Starting with the beds. He took one and made it larger, he was not going to sleep in a separate bed from his wife. The second bed he turned in to a small table that could come down when needed and be stored away for more space. After Grant had come along, Trevor found himself needing to make more adjustments, like turning the storage space into a loft for Grant to sleep. And when Simon was born the table had to be abandoned altogether and turned back into a bed. Neither of the young men rarely used it anymore, having almost completely outgrown the space by the time they were twelve, preferring to sleep out under the stars more often than not.

Trevor had some concerns about their chosen lifestyle at first. Those concerns had only increased when Sypha became pregnant. He had considered settling them all down, creating a homestead. He had even made a subtle attempt. They had just taken Grant in and Sypha had only recently discovered she was pregnant with Simon. She tired easily, not that he would ever say that out loud, and she spent the first few months ill. She had also begun to chronicle her knowledge that had passed down to her as a Speaker and marking the changes in the land while often pointing out that it was difficult to write when he drove so poorly. And so Trevor thought that staying in one place for a time might ease some of the burden.

He could not have been more wrong.

Trevor had thought that remaining stationary would help her, but it had only frustrated her instead. Sypha paced as if in a cage, fretting endlessly about events in her absence. She could not concentrate when there were things happening out in the world and how could he want to sit idly by, missing so much. Also, the wagon helped her with her child sickness. She found the rocking motion comforting.

Trevor could only shake his head. The woman was like a maze through briars in the night and he was uncertain that he would ever learn the way.

And so, back in the wagon they went. Many things had changed over the years but this little wagon had sheltered them through it all. It was not much, but it was home.

Once the kindling had been gathered, it only took a few minutes to warm the meat pies in the stove. They were tasty enough although Trevor could not recall seeing much in the way of livestock as they passed through that last village. Only a few chickens and some goats. He decided it was best not to dwell too long on the source of the meat. Perhaps he would set a few traps tonight, if he was lucky they would have a rabbit or grouse in them for the morning.

“I had thought we would be closer by now,” Sypha sighed as she brushed crumbs off of her lap. “The road does not seem to wish to end.”

They had been traveling close to a fortnight now, and at the rate they were going it may be another fortnight before they would arrive at the castle. They had to make many stops along the way.

If there had been any question in Trevor’s mind as to whether there was something dark rearing its ugly head once more, it had steadily been answered. It was if the land had been abandoned in the more remote areas. Men and women who should have been out oiling plowshares and tending harnesses, preparing for the planting to come had abandoned their homes. Some had gathered their families and headed towards the more populated areas, seeking some semblance of safety within city walls. And the stories they would tell.

They would come in the night, the monsters, demons from Dracula’s horde. They had taken any one they could at first, men, women and children, would simply vanish. Nothing but blood and burned out farms left behind. But then the creatures began to take only the men, passing over the women and children completely. Old or young, always the men. The brave souls who would gather their nerve and set out in rescue parties were often never heard from again. The nights have become darker and longer too. Dracula has returned and is creating a never ending night.

Trevor knew that this was not the case of course ... Dracula was dead, he had seen to this himself. No, this was not the work of Dracula. This was someone else. Someone who has simply picked up the mantle and is continuing his work. Some bloody fucking vampire with a bloody fucking forge master.

God he hated those bastards.

“Perhaps Simon and Grant remaining behind was good, although I would have preferred to have them with us.”

Trevor licked at the grease on his fingers. The boys had wanted to come along but Trevor had ordered them to remain behind.

“The town needs them more than we do right now,” he said, ignoring the glare she gave him as he wiped his hands on his coat. “If they didn’t stay, the bloody clergy would’ve had the townsfolk back paying penance for something that was not their doing. They’ll be fine and we’ll be back soon enough.”

“Still, I can’t help but think that you wanted them to stay.”

Trevor stifled a groan. Sypha had been almost as unhappy about the boys remaining behind as the boys themselves had been. Something that had confused the hell out of him since she had been the one to suggest they remain to help the villagers in the first place. And Trevor had agreed. The journey would not be quick and could have some risk. Not to mention that they had no idea what they would find once they reached the castle. Alucard could be feral by now for all he knew. Besides, Sypha would just coddle them like she does and they needed to be on their own a bit. But then, she is their mother, and mother’s did tend to have a hard time letting go.

“Sypha, we’ve been over this,” Trevor reminded her gently, “and it really is for the best. Simon is practically a man now, for all sense and purposes. We need to start letting him be a man and make his own choices.”

“His choice was to come with us to the castle.”

“The right choices, he needs to make the right choices. That is a part of becoming a man as well. Knowing when to listen to those wiser than you and make the right choices. His coming with us was not the best option. Those people still need guidance and he’ll benefit from the experience.”

Sypha stood across from where he sat, her arms folded across her chest. “Are you sure it’s not because you don’t want him around Alucard.”

“What? No! God woman, no,” he scoffed, “of course not.” Sypha simply looked at him. She could compress a great deal into one look. “But you have to admit,” he continued, standing up before her and placing his hands on her shoulders, “that showing up unannounced with the entire family on his doorstep might be a bit much. It’s better that it’s just you and me. This time anyway. Simon will be better for it, I promise. Just trust me this one time about this. I think I know a little something about becoming a man.”

Sypha looked up at him with eyes bluer than any midsummer day he had ever seen and her rosebud mouth curved into a small smile. Good, she seemed satisfied. But then, only a fool thought he knew what was in a woman’s head just because she had a smile on her face.

At that moment, an osprey’s cry was heard; Trevor grabbed his whip and a crossbow that hung buy the door. The osprey call was the signal that a ward had been tripped. Someone was outside the wagon in the woods.

Trevor opened the wagon door and cautiously stepped out. He looked up at Sypha who was concentrating on a small ball of light in her hand behind him.

“There,” she whispered and pointed into the black of the forest. Trevor made his way to the tree line, crossbow aimed at the dark.

“I know you’re out there,” Trevor shouted, “and if you’re not dead yet you will be unless you show yourself.”

Not a sound came from the darkness. “Alright,” Trevor mumbled, “have it your way. Light’em up dear.”

Sypha walked from behind him, the tiny ball of light in her hand having grown exponentially, when a voice called out.

“That you Belmont?”

Sypha glanced at Trevor who squinted into the dark. “Who’s asking,” he shouted in reply.

Two figures emerged from the shadows. One was a younger fellow, a cap of blond hair that was slightly singed atop his head. Wide grey eyes stared out from a face smudged with soot. The other man was older, about the same age as Trevor. Dark hair and eyes and a face that was all planes and angles. They both wore the dark brown leather and long daggers at their side of hunters. A majority of the time, Trevor would have let Sypha burn them to a crisp. He did not like hunters. Most were corrupt, kidnapping young women and children and selling them to the church as witches or possessed to be burned at the stake or worse. Trevor had straightened more than a few out on more than one occasion. But not this time. Not this man. Trevor knew this man. They had known each other for many years now, even saved each other’s neck a time or two. One of the very few honest hunters still out there.

The older man grinned. “I thought that it might be you when those wards of yours caught Charles here,” he gestured to the younger man who made a sour face, “and when your lovely wife about lit up everything in a three mile radius, I knew.”

Trevor smiled. “Morris Baldwin. What the hell are you doing here, you old goat.”

“Trying not to get killed,” Morris laughed as he approached Trevor and the two embraced. “Good to see you as well Sypha.”

Sypha smiled as she hugged him. “You as well Morris.”

Morris took a step back and gestured over to the trees where the younger man still stood. “That over there is Charles Vincent. Well, don’t just stand there like some slack jawed bugger. Come over boy.”

Charles stood in the shadows and stared at the three warily. “But ... but they ... she ... that was witchcraft!”

Trevor bristled slightly and his eyes narrowed. But Sypha only smiled.

“That is a common misconception, but it is not witchcraft. I am a speaker.”

“Isn’t that the same thing,” Charles said incredulously.

“Now listen here,” Trevor started towards the young man only to stop when Sypha put her hand on his arm with a shake of her head.

“What the hell is wrong with you boy,” Morris bellowed angrily.“Have you been listening to anything I’ve been telling you? There’s no witches here! This is Sypha and Trevor Belmont. The ones who killed Dracula. Now get over here and make right before I let them turn you to ash!”

Charles went pale as Morris spoke although his face remained sullen. The little shit should look shameful, Trevor thought angrily. He had never taken kindly to any sort of disparaging comment in any kind of way towards Sypha. And that one was the worst in Trevor’s opinion.

But Sypha had heard these types of accusations her entire life and had learned a long time ago not to allow it to rattle her in any way. She simply smiled once more and walked towards the young man who at least had the courtesy to keep his head down.

“It’s alright. As I said, it’s a common misconception. Please, come, everyone inside and sit. I still have some pies and I am sure Trevor has some drink somewhere. Trevor,” Sypha called over her shoulder, “perhaps we set up a fire outside? The wagon could become a bit constraining with so many large men inside. I will see to the food.”

In a matter moment, Trevor had the fire going and everyone was gathered around, finishing off the last of the mystery meat pies.

“So where are those boys of yours,” Morris asked between bites, “I wouldn’t have thought to find them very far from you.”

“They’re not boys anymore Morris,” Trevor chuckled. “They’re back in Dobreta. There was still some cleanup to do. What about you? How’s Mary?”

“Fine, fine. Had a little one of our own not but barely a year back.”

“Oh Morris,” Sypha smiled as she passed him a cup, “that’s wonderful. Congratulations. Boy or girl.

“A boy,” Morris beamed. “Named him Hugh. He’s a handful too. Runs his poor ma ragged. That’s why I’m training young Charles here. Take over the family business.”

“Looking to retire eh?” Trevor sympathized.

“Yeah. I’m not getting any younger. And there aren’t very many of us left you know. True hunters left I mean.”

“Yeah,” Trevor agreed.

“Is it true what happened to Joseph and Katerine,” Sypha asked.

“Yeah,” Morris replied, his face gone somber, “it’s true. Bloody tragic, pardon my language Sypha. Left a boy of there own behind, Nathan. Mary and I have taken him in. He doesn’t have anywhere else.”

Trevor shook his head. Joseph and Katerine Graves were two of the more competent hunters he knew. It was said they had died, sacrificing their lives to seal up some demon vampire in the north area. More and more of the good ones gone. And with a child left behind. Trevor looked at Sypha. He did not believe he would live through it if he lost her. Perhaps not even for Simon.

“What clean up?” Charles suddenly spoke up from where he sat after having remained quiet through most of the night. Everyone looked at him questioningly. “You said there was some cleanup to do ... with your son ... in Dobreta. What cleanup?”

“Ah,” Trevor said as he reached in the pocket of his coat and pulled out a pipe. He began to pack it with with tabac. “We were in Dobreta due to a sudden increase in hellspawn out there,” Trevor said matter-of-factly. “The locals thought it was from Dracula’s horde, but we know better. Still, they were wily fuckers. You heard anything about any bloodsuckers out there with a sudden case of ambition? And maybe a forge master too?”

Morris rubbed at his chin thoughtfully. “Can’t say that I have ...”

“Styria,” Charles interjected.

Trevor looked at Morris who had a look of consideration on his face. “What’s with Styria?”

Morris shifted in his seat. “Well, rumors mostly. A little extra activity than normal, so to speak.”

“Who controls Styria,” Trevor asked.

“A female vampire named Carmilla, I believe,” Sypha said. “Not much is known about her. I don’t believe she was not one of Dracula’s high generals either.”

Trevor grimaced. You did not need to be a high general to have ambition. “Do you think Alucard would know her?”

Sypha shrugged. “I don’t see why not. I suppose we can ask him when we see him.”

“Ah,” Morris said as he took a swallow from his cup, “going to the castle then?”

“Yeah, Sypha thinks there was some strange magics involved in Dobreta,” Trevor answered with a shrug. “The only place we might get some real answers, especially regarding magic, would be in the castle or perhaps the hold. We were hoping Alucard could give us a hand.” If he hasn’t gone batshit crazy, Trevor thought silently to himself.

Charles looked at them in outright horror. “You would seek the help of that devil-halfbreed monster?”

Morris rolled his eyes and sighed loudly but Trevor was having none of it this time. “Oh you know him then?” He asked, sitting up to level a steady gaze on the young man.

“I ... no ... no one dares ...” Charles stammered.

“So you don’t know him then,” Trevor said, ignoring Sypha’s hand on his arm. “Well, it just so happens that I do. I also know that if it hadn’t been for that devil-halfbreed monster, Dracula would still be out roaming the land making late night snacks out of little shits like you. Little shits who walk around thinking they know so much about the goings on in the world only to find to late they don’t know a fucking thing.”

Charles’s gaze flicked to Morris who stared pointedly at his cup. “I ... I only say that because of what we heard ...”

“And just what did you hear,” Trevor said incredulously.

“That ... that there is a witch in the woods, around the castle.” His gaze flicked from Trevor to Morris and then back to Trevor. “A witch with a great beast as a familiar.”

“And where did you hear this trite?” Trevor growled.

“A hunter ... his name was Gerold.”

Trevor looked at Morris who gave him a sly smile over his cup. “Gerold Niclaus.”

“Gerold Niclaus?” Trevor spat. “That stupid git! He wouldn’t know his arse from a hole in the ground. If there was any justice in this fucked up world that witch and her familiar would have flayed and skinned him on the spot. Gerold fucking Niclaus. Is this where you get your information from now Morris?”

Morris leaned over to poke at the fire with a smile. “Now, now Trevor. You know I like to listen to all. Best way to learn I always say.”

“He’s a right royal prick and you know it. Oh don’t look at me like that Sypha! If not for you I would have run him through a long time ago.” He would have too. Gerold had try to claim Sypha as a witch for a bounty. Sypha had been quite capable of running him off but not before he turned the town against them. His blood burned at the memory.

“Be that as it may,”continued Morris nonplussed, “see him we did. And he was steadily rambling about a woman in the woods and her pet werewolf. He was well into his cups by the time we found him mind you, but his story never changed.”

“Trevor,” Sypha said calmly, “perhaps it is something we should at least take into consideration.”

“Alucard isn’t taking up with some witch Sypha, nor would he let one roam so close to the castle.”

“I agree,” soothed Sypha, “but that doesn’t mean that there isn’t some danger coming his way. A danger he may not be aware of.”

“Or maybe that’s why he’s staffing the castle.”

Trevor and Sypha both whipped around to look at Morris. “What!” They both exclaimed simultaneously.

“He’s staffing the castle,” Morris repeated as he continued to nonchalantly stoke the fire. “Had some scrawny little chap called Gandolfi or Goldifi-something or other, going around asking if anyone was interested in temporary to semi-permanent employment over there. Most ran the poor man out but not before he got a few to bite.”

Trevor looked at Sypha who only looked thoughtful. What the hell could be going on over there?

After the drinks were finished, everyone made camp for the night. Morris decided that he and Charles would sleep next to the wagon rather than try on in the dark, looking for shelter. Safety in numbers he said. They left off early that next morning but not before Charles came to Sypha with his head lowered, thanking them for the food and shelter and apologizing for his ignorance. Sypha was gracious as usual but Trevor gave the young man a stern look and a grunt as a farewell. Uppity little pups need to learn their place sometimes.

In short time, he and Sypha were moving as well. She sat next to him on the wagon, her head resting against his arm.

“Gandolfi ...” Trevor mumbled looking down at Sypha. “It took me a while but I know where I heard that name before. The Gandolfi’s have served House Belmont since the days of Leon Belmont. I had no idea one was even still around.”

“Well, it looks like Alucard did and he’s given him a job,” Sypha said with a small smile.


	6. Chapter 6

Candles lit the grand ball room in a soft glow. Tiny hot ribbons of light, danced along the walls and ceiling, creating warm golden arcs of color that reflected off the marble. It was an impressive room, with its sweeping arches, fresco and gold leaf detailing, mosaics and stained glass windows. It was nowhere near the magnificence of Dracula’s castle, but it was impressivenone the less. Carmilla had seen to every detail in preparation for this night and it showed.

Hector stood back against the wall of the second story balcony that over looked the main floor. Many had come. Mostly from lesser Houses, but that was to be expected. The less powerful often sought to align themselves with the strong. But there were also a few of the older Houses as well. Vampires that even Dracula himself had not been able to lure away from their sanctuaries. A fact that Carmilla seemed to take particular interest in.

Carmilla stood in front of Hector, also in the shadows of the balcony overlooking the ballroom. Her gown of midnight black caused her pale skin to appear ghostly in its luminosity. The only color to her porcelain mask was the deep blood red painted on her lips that, for Hector knew, could actually have been blood. It was obvious she had recently fed. She would want to be at her strength for this. Beauty was just one of her many strengths, and with all of that warm fresh blood rushing through her, she was quite beautiful. But she was nothing compared to the woman next to her.

If Carmilla was beautiful, then her daughter Laura was stunning. Her hair flowed down past her shoulders in red gold waves that framed a heart shaped faced and a rosebud mouth. Emerald green eyes shone from behind pale lashes. She ethereal in her beauty. An inspiration for any Baroque era painting. She may had even posed for a few. Her beauty was inspiring, flawless, disarming, and deadly. The only thing that rivaled her beauty was her twisted sadistic need to cause pain. It was her entire world. And she excelled at it. Hector had seen what she was capable of.

She had never been permitted to touch him. Carmilla had told her that she was a true artist. As such, when in the throes of her passion she had a tendency to lose herself in her work and push her subjects past their limits. Therefore Laura had never been allowed to take part in his ... conditioning; something that had always infuriated her. Hector avoided her at all costs. She was unstable and if Carmilla were ever not around, he shuddered at the thought of what she could do.

But for now, she stood next to Carmilla and looked down at the gathering below in complete disinterest. She reminded Hector of a petulant doll.

“Even Brauner has come out of his hole,” Carmilla commented, sounding pleased, “although I do not see his daughters with him.”

“Will he pledge?” Laura asked.

“I cannot say ...”

“Then what does it matter,” Laura whined.

“What matters, my dear, is that he even bothered to show,” Carmilla said with the patience of a mother lecturing her child. “It shows that there is an interest. We must simply find where that interest lies. Now try to pay attention my darling, there are lessons to be learned here.”

“Really? And what lesson would you be looking to learn from a dog mother?”

“Now Laura,” Carmilla tutted, “such antiquated biases have no place in today’s society. Ortega is here because I have invited him and because he just happens to be leader of the largest pack of werewolves in the territory and is coincidentally looking to expand that territory, much like us. Having a few guard dogs is never a bad thing.”

Ortega. An old and powerful werewolf. One of the last true alphas left. He was said to be ruthless in his domination. He was said to hate vampires as much as he hated humanity. Not even Dracula trusted him. Hector wondered what Carmilla could possibly have in mind for him.

“Oh, well now this, this is interesting,” Carmilla tapped a long finger against red lips thoughtfully, “... why has she come I wonder ... and is that her pet with her?”

“Who?”

“This could complicate matters,” Carmilla murmured to herself.

“Can I kill them,”Laurav chirped brightly.

“No darling.”

“Why not,” Laura huffed.

“Because that would prove difficult even for one with your skill, my sweet. No, we must see what her intentions are first. Her intentions and those of her father’s.”

“But who is she,” Laura opined. She was quite put out now at being told no. She crossed her arms beneath her ample bosom and pouted.

“Elizabeth Bartley.”

Those names made Hector almost jump out of the shadows. Elizabeth Bartley was notorious for her own little sadistic streak amongst her many other obsessions. She was old and powerful and said to have extensive knowledge of dark arts and alchemy. She was not a vampire to cross. She was also the daughter of Lord Cronqvist. One of the oldest vampires and most powerful vampires still in existence ... and Dracula’s brother. Making Elizabeth ....

“Dracula’s niece,” Laura exclaimed. “That homely, scrawny little thing is Dracula’s niece?”

“She is neither homely or scrawny. Never underestimate your opponent Laura,” Carmilla chided. “She is quite deadly and very old and could cause you and I both great harm.”

Laura glared down at the gathering below. She opened her mouth to speak only to be stopped when Carmilla raised her hand.

“No Laura, I am quite adamant about this. You are not to try anything with her.”

“Not ever?” Laura looked at Carmilla like a dejected child being denied the only treat she had ever desired.

“Not yet,” Carmilla clucked as she smoothed Laura’s hair. Laura looked at her hopefully once more but Carmilla silenced her with another raised hand. “We are to see what her intentions are first. For all we know she may be beneficial to our own cause.”

“And if she is not ....?”

“And if she is not, then steps will be taken. But only after very careful and very cautious consideration. It will not be an easy undertaking and I would prefer not to have her as an adversary. At least not until we have taken the castle.”

For the second time this night Hector felt himself tense. The only Castle Carmilla could have any interest in would be Dracula’s. So that was her plan. To reclaim the castle. Hector supposed that if there was the knowledge anywhere to claim dominion over vampires it would be there. It was even said to now sit atop the original Belmont hold. A very deadly weapon to wield indeed.

“So,” Laura’s brows came together in thought. Hector wondered if it hurt. “We get her and her father to help us kill the half breed ... and then we take the castle ... and then, I get to kill her?”

Carmilla’s smile was amused. “Very well,” she cooed as she turned away from the balcony, “but only if it is necessary. It is a fight I would rather not have, especially without - why Hector! I had forgotten you were even there. Have you been sitting in the shadows this entire time?”

Hector doubted that she had forgotten, Carmilla was not one to be as careless as that. But she had begun to think of him as completely broken. A pet that has been brought to heel and now only did her bidding. It was important she believe that. In truth, there were times when Hector had begun to believe it himself. She had given him some freedom as of late. It was tempting to simply remain here and do as he was told. Perhaps she would even allow him to be with Rosaly. But then Hector knew that was a fools dream. Regardless, it was of the utmost importance that Carmilla believe he was hers completely. He just hoped he did not begin to believe it himself.

Hector kept his eyes lowered as he spoke with deference. “Not the entire time mistress.”

Carmilla walked slowly to where he stood by the door, eyeing him up and down. He was dressed entirely in black, grey, and white, the colors of Styria. Carmilla’s colors. She brushed off the shoulders of his uniform with a pleased smile. “You look perfect Hector. The very image of a Devil Forgemaster. You remember what I told you to do?”

“Yes mistress.”

Carmilla’s eyes narrowed as she looked at him. “Good boy.”

Hector struggled for control under that gaze. He kept his eyes downcast but he felt that gaze as one would the heat from a raging fire. He fought the urge to reach for his neck. The collar had been removed for tonight, Carmilla had a show to put on, but she would not hesitate to return it to his neck.

“I don’t understand why you still need this one. We have plenty of those little shits running around now,” Laura glared at him with utter contempt. She had never forgiven him for being forbidden to “play” with him.

Carmilla continued to level her unblinking gaze on Hector as she spoke. “Now Laura, we have discussed this. Hector is one of us now and has a job to do. We all have our jobs if our plans are to come to fruition. And Hector wants to see us succeed, isn’t that right Hector?”

“Of course mistress.”

“Of course,” Carmilla echoed.

She walked out of the room with Laura trailing in her wake. Hector fell in behind them. Carmilla and Laura continued to talk but their voices were nothing more than hushed whispers. Not that Hector really needed to hear anymore. He knew what he needed too. They wished to take Dracula’s castle. They planned to kill his son. They sought to fill the void in the ruling hierarchy. More accurately, they sought to rule the hierarchy. Hector did not give a damn what they sought to do. His only concern was escape for him and Rosaly. That was his sole purpose now and they chaos of the oncoming war Carmilla was seeking to create was his chance. Let them destroy each other with their machinations. Their ambition was his opportunity. This land could burn to the ground for all he cared. He planned on taking Rosaly as far from here as possible. To an entirely different country. Perhaps even an entirely different continent. It was even rumored a that a new land had been discovered across the ocean at the farthest edge of the world. A dangerous journey to be certain, but Hector felt it could not be anything compared to what he has been through already.

Hector remained in the shadows as Carmilla made her entrance down the stairs the landing that stood above the room. Carmilla wanted to make sure that everyone was looking up at her when she entered. It was important to make an impact. She raised her glass and made a toast her guests as Hector waited. It was not time for him to be seen yet. Carmilla was all about impressions. It did not take long for her to get to the point.

“My honored friends, my dear guests ... You must know why I have called all of you here tonight. It is time we set aside our differences. We must stop the pointless fighting between houses. These are volatile times and our lack of unity puts our people in a perilous position. The time for the petty infighting is over and call for order must be established.”

“Is this why you called us here Carmilla? For some disingenuous call for peace?”

Hector peered out from the dark to see a tall, pale, bald headed man with piercing eyes that gleamed. Victor Brauner had indeed come.

Brauner had never really had any dealings with Dracula that Hector could remember. Not at least while Dracula’s campaign was going on. This did not surprise Dracula. The only thing Brauner has ever shown any interest in is his daughters and the great lord knew that he would more than likely rebuff any advances. In fact, as far as Hector was aware, Brauner did not agree with Dracula’s war at all and called him a fool for pursuing it before retreating back to his territory. But not before sending troops from the Houses that followed him. Brauner is old and powerful, but Dracula was still the great lord.

If Carmilla was bothered by Brauner’s interruption, she did not show it. Laura openly glared.

“Is is disingenuous to seek the survival of our people Victor?”

“I have never known you to be so concerned with those who rival you Carmilla,” those eyes gleamed from within sunken in sockets. “Seeing as you rarely concern yourself with anything that you cannot benefit from.”

“And you would be correct, Victor, because this fighting benefits no one. You, of all of our kind must see this Victor. You, who openly denied our Dark Lord and refused to answer his call to war.”

“Forces were sent Carmilla ...”

“From ... minor houses Victor,” Carmilla paused. Hector knew she meant expendable houses.

“And who are you to call out one’s loyalty Carmilla,” a new voice called out from the hall. Hector’s breath caught as the crowd parted and a beautiful woman walked forward from the back of the hall. Hector now knew why Laura hated her so. If Laura was the beauty of youth, then this woman was beauty in her prime, fully ripened. Long black hair hung like a curtain down her back, creating a stark contrast to the gleaming white dress she wore. Her full bosom was accentuated by her small waist and the gold belt that circled it. She wore no jewelry other than the gold strands that were threaded through her hair and gold necklace with a single black jewel around her neck. Elizabeth Bartley had made her own entrance. Carmilla said nothing as she approached.

“Are you not the one who betrayed the great lord in Brailla,” Elizabeth continued. “Was it not your forces who attacked the great lord’s castle, forcing him to withdraw? Who are you Carmilla, to speak to anyone of disloyalty, much less to those older than yourself?”

Elizabeth’s words hung in the air. The insult was not lost on anyone in the room. Elizabeth had openly pointed out Carmilla’s age. It was the foundation vampire hierarchy was built on. And Elizabeth had essentially said that Carmilla had not only breached it, but had no business addressing it in the first place.

Laura visibly roiled at this, her mouth twisting into a snarl. But Carmilla halted her with a hand on her shoulder, her eyes never leaving Elizabeth’s.

“It is true,” she finally said as her eyes covered the room, “it was my forces who attacked in Brailla. In truth, the great lord would never have gone to Brailla in the first place if it had not been at my own bidding.” A murmur went quickly through the room at this revelation. Carmilla let it continue for a moment before speaking once more. “I admit what I did.”

What had once been a murmur now turned into an outright roar. Carmilla waited as fists rose in the air. Cries of traitor and murderess rang through the hall. Demands for justice and retribution called out. Only Brauner and Elizabeth remained still, their eyes locked on Carmilla.

“My friends please,” Carmilla implored with her hands in the air, “please listen to me. Hear me out. Let me explain why and then, if you still demand justice I will willingly hand myself to you. But first hear me out.” The room calmed down as Carmilla spoke. “Do you truly believe this something I would have done without good reason? Who would dare go against one as great as Dracula? The father of us all? He could have ended my existence with a snap of his fingers. And yet I still went forward, knowing it would essentially lead to my own demise, my own suicide.” The room was quiet now. She had their attention. “I was there. I was at the great lord’s side. I was in his confidence and knew his plans better than any of you. He was in pain, his wife, the love of his ever lasting life, had been unjustly murdered by the humans and his inability to help her had torn him apart. The great lord we knew, the great lord I loved, had been shattered. He had gone mad.” A murmur rose once more in the room. “And you surprised? If what you valued and loved more than anything in this existence had been taken from you, would you not feel the same? Just imagine if it had happened to you. I know if anything had happened to my beloved Laura, I would be inconsolable. Now imagine this feeling with one as old and as great as our lord Dracula. His overwhelming need for vengeance had pushed beyond the desire to punish the guilty, but to kill all of the humans. I could not let that happen. I could not let our people starve,” Carmilla paused to look around the room. “Even his own generals had questioned his sanity in the end and were turning away.”

Hushed voices spread across the room once more as Brauner stepped forward. “And what proof do have to back your claim Carmilla? Who can validate this claim when all of his generals are conveniently dead?”

Carmilla stood at the landing looking down at the room and waited till the whispering stopped and the hall was in complete silence.

“Not all of them are dead Victor ...” It was at that moment Hector made his entrance down the stairwell and to the landing to where Carmilla and her daughter stood. The murmuring started once more along with one or two gasps as he approached adorned in the colors of Styria, the colors of Carmilla’s House. He was known in the vampire world. His work was infamous. “If my word is not enough for you, then I give you Hector, Dracula’s own Devil Forgemaster who is here of his own volition to back my claim.”

“It is true,” Hector began his carefully rehearsed lines, “I was there. I was with Dracula from the beginning. By the end, he was mad with grief. The murder of his wife compiled with the betrayal of his son had broken him. He not only wished to end the existence of the humans, but of all life. He wished to die himself. It was I who first went to the other generals of this ill fated campaign, calling for someone to stand and bring order to the madness. I can only assume that it was out of fear that no one confronted Dracula. Only Carmilla stepped forward. Only Carmilla was willing to put her own people’s life on the line and take on that burden.”

The crowd stirred at his words and Carmilla placed a tender hand on his shoulder. “No Hector, I only did what was necessary.”

“If not for you,” he continued, “we would all be dead.”

“If not for Adrian you mean.” The hall went quiet once more and all heads turned to look at Elizabeth. “It was his son, Adrian, who killed Dracula.”

Carmilla turned to look down fully at Elizabeth, her disdain barely veiled. “True enough. All the more reason for us to take back the castle. While we sit here, pointlessly fighting, the humans are beginning to claim more and more dominion over the land. Because we are so preoccupied with destroying each other, they are becoming stronger and more organized. It is time for the natural order to be once more established. We must take back our lord’s castle from that traitorous little half-breed that occupies it. He forfeited any right to it once he murdered his own father.” Murmurs of appreciation spread through the crowd. “Then we establish a regent. A leader to fill that gaping void. One who will have our people’s needs at the forefront.”

“I suppose you would be the one to fill said void,” Victor asked.

“I would never think to simply place myself there Victor,” Carmilla replied indignantly, “this sort of thing should be decided by the majority.”

“I will help you take the castle.”

All heads whipped around to the source of the deep booming voice. A large man strode forth and stood at the foot of the stairs, looking up at where Carmilla stood. He was swarthy broad fellow with thick dark hair, black eyes and clothed head to toe in leather. A large knife hung at his waist. “I am Ortega. Leader and alpha to the Grey Winds pack. And I will promise the loyalty of my pack in return for your favor.”

Carmilla clutched her chest as if in surprise. “Werewolves? There hasn’t been an alliance of vampires and lycans in centuries.”

“I’m aware of how long,” Ortega said. “I am willing to forego the old grudges and forge a new alliance. My kind roams scattered and leaderless and their alphas have grown weak, losing territory to the humans. I will remedy this. Support my claim and I promise you the strength of my entire clan.”

“I too, will help you take the castle.”

More gasps and murmurs as another figure stepped from the crowd.

Baron Gilles de Rais. At one time, one of Dracula’s most trusted servants only to fall out of favor when Dracula met his wife, Lisa. The exact reason for his banishment from the castle was not known, but rumors swirled that Lisa would not tolerate Gilles’ unnatural fascination with young children, specifically little boys. It was said she had wanted him put to death but Dracula had banished him instead. It was something the Baron had never forgiven. He was a middle aged man when turned. A round pasty face that seemed to be constantly sweating framed two beady little eyes. His thin layer of hair and slightly protruding gut made him easily taken for granted, but he was anything but. He was old, powerful, and not one to be taken lightly. And he had a strong hate for Lisa Tepes and her son, holding her responsible for his banishment and current hardships.

“I will help take back the castle of my master. Even if it means fighting with mongrels.”

This comment resulted in a low growl from Ortega but Carmilla moved quickly to diffuse it.

“No,” she exclaimed as she made her way down the stairs to where the two men stood, “no Baron, not mongrels. Never mongrels. Allies. And by reclaiming the castle we will become strong and have the tools to cull the human race to what they should be, nothing more than game.”

The hall roared in agreement as the rest of the room began to pledge their support to Carmilla’s cause. Carmilla stood at the foot of the stairs and soaked up the adoration. Several of the attendants called for her to declare herself queen but she waved them off as if shocked, replying that she would only do what her people will of her. It was a well played ruse and the minor Houses accepted all of it.

Brauner, on the other hand shared a few hushed words with Elizabeth before leaving. Once he was gone, Elizabeth walked over to the landing where Carmilla now stood.

“It would seem that I underestimated you,” Elizabeth said.

Carmilla simply smiled. “Won’t you join me for a drink.”

Once they were up the stairs and in a private room, Carmilla had a servant sent for drinks as she took a seat at the table, gesturing for Elizabeth to join her. Hector moved to stand against the wall behind where Carmilla sat while Laura stood at her immediate right. If Elizabeth was bothered about being out numbered, she did not show it. Although Hector could not imagine why she would be. She was strong enough to kill the three of them with a flick of her hand. It was not until everyone was settled that Hector saw that Elizabeth was not alone. She did have someone with her. A woman who’s face was covered by a long black veil and wearing a sheer black dress that left little to the imagination. Hector wondered who this could be.

“Brauner could not stay,” Carmilla asked innocently as she picked up her glass.

“Brauner has his own agenda,” Elizabeth shrugged, “as do well all.”

“Indeed,” Carmilla smiled over her glass, “and what would yours be Elizabeth?”

“Believe it or not, the agenda I serve is not my own,” Elizabeth replied, “but my father’s.”

Carmilla tensed only slightly at the mention of Elizabeth’s father. “And what would lord Cronqvist’s interests be in all this?”

It was Elizabeth’s turn to smile from above her glass. “Why our ancestral home of course.”

“If you were so concerned about it, why haven’t you done anything!” Laura hissed.

Elizabeth’s gaze never left Carmilla as she sipped from her glass, ignoring Laura completely. Something that only incensed Laura even more. Carmilla stilled her with a raised finger, but Laura visibly trembled with rage.

“Of course,” Carmilla practically purred, but Hector could see the strain beneath. Carmilla might be able to take her chances with Elizabeth, but she would not dare challenge Elizabeth’s father.

“Don’t misunderstand me,” Elizabeth continued, “you may do what you wish with Adrian. He has chosen which side he is on and is no longer our concern. We would not be able to aid you outright in this venture of course. We can not be seen openly assisting in the death of one of our own. Traitor though he may be, he is still blood. But certain ... accommodations can be made. In return, there are certain family heirlooms within the castle that my father would very much like to be retrieved.”

“And those items are ...”

“Oh nothing for you to be concerned about. Just some simple items of sentimental value between brothers.”

Carmilla tapped long nails impatiently against the arm of her chair. “And how can I retrieve said items if I don’t know what they are.”

“Because you are not going to retrieve said items. That will be left to Actrise.”

Carmilla’s hand froze mid tap. “Actrise?”

The black veiled woman glided to out of the shadows and came to a halt next to Elizabeth. “Yes,” Elizabeth smiled, “my father has graciously lent you her services. She is quite handy in these types of situations. I think you will find her most useful. For example, did you know she can tell if a man is lying?” Hector felt his breath catch. “It is especially effective with humans. It helps when one has a soul for her to see. But she never fails. She can see right into the heart of a person. Had she been there for my uncle, I imagine things would have turned out quite differently.”

“Indeed.” Carmilla’s smile was tight.

“Well, no use in thinking of what might have been. Perhaps you would like an example of her skills? Let’s see,” Elizabeth tapped her finger against her lips thoughtfully, “no use in looking into you,” she said gesturing at Laura. “You’re like an open book.” Laura openly seethed. “How about your Forgemaster? Step forth boy.”

Hector hesitated and Carmilla smiled as she gestured him forward, believing he was waiting for her permission. He was not. He was terrified. All of his careful planning and suffering through nights of seemingly endless beatings were about to be for naught. Hector knew of Actrise. He knew what she was capable of and of what she had done to become what she is today. She would see right through him. He would never escape now. The woman in black glided towards him.

Hector thought of Rosaly. Hector focused on Rosaly. The way her hair brushed her shoulders. The touch of her hands against his skin.

The woman in black stood before him. He could see the outline of her face through her diaphanous veil. Her eyes were two bottomless black pits.

He thought of Rosaly’s eyes. Green with flecks of brown and blue. They could take on the color of whatever she was wearing. They fascinated him.

Two little pinpricks of white light glinted from within the endless black that consumed him. It was as if he could feel cold fingers trace his being. It was over now. Carmilla would soon know everything and he would die. He wished he could see Rosaly one last time.

The woman in black lifted her veil. She, like the other women in the room, was unnaturally beautiful. Her long silver hair was pulled back in several intricate braids against her dark creamy skin that seemed to shimmer in the candle light. She was statuesque and with her full lips and high cheekbones, she would be considered stunning as well, if not for those eyes. Any other man who found himself in this room with four exquisitely beautiful women such as these would consider himself fortunate. Hector knew that he was in a room full of vipers.

“What he said in the hall is not all truth,” Actrise mused in a breathy drawl, Carmilla tensed behind him as Laura snarled, “... but he will deny it. He is her man to the end and loyal to her cause.”

The veil went back down and Actrise glided away. Hector stood there stunned.

“There you have it,” Elizabeth sighed. “As I said earlier, my father has no intention of standing in the way of your ambitions. We simply seek to retrieve what is ours.” Elizabeth set her glass on the table and stood up. “Actrise will remain here to keep us posted and set about whatever tasks you may needI highly recommend you do try to utilize her talents. She is quite good.” With that, Elizabeth left the room.

Carmilla sat, gripping the arms of her chair for a moment before she too stood. She looked at Laura, who seemed to be battling whether she was going to run at Elizabeth or Actrise. Whatever look Carmilla gave her though made Laura regain her composure.

“Come Hector,” Carmilla called as the two women left the room. Hector moved to follow.

“You know that I have lied for you. I know your true intentions.”

Hector froze at the door but did not turn around.

“You need not fear me Forgemaster. I will not hinder you ...”

“But,” Hector asked. There was always a but.

“But I will need something in return ... eventually. Go find your woman Forgemaster; time is fleeting.”

Hector quickly left the room and moved swiftly down the corridor, his heart pounding. It did not take him long to catch up to Carmilla and Laura due to the fact that Laura had paused to destroy a room in the castle.

“I’ll kill that simpering bitch,” a vase crashed against the wall, “how dare she,” followed by a chair, “I’ll fucking kill her,” the sound of a tapestry ripping, “her and her whole fucking family!” A table flipped.

“Do be quiet Laura, I’m trying to think ...”

“Be quiet? How can you expect me to be quiet!” Laura spat as she punched the wall, leaving a large gaping hole. “That whore walks in like she lives here ...”

“Ah Hector, good you’re here,” Carmilla said when she spotted him in the doorway.

“With her smug face and then leaving that witch here!” Laura continued to snarl as she smashed another chair.

Carmilla walked to where Hector stood by the door. “This is changes nothing Hector. Do not worry, I won’t let that witch get in the way of your work. It’s more important than ever now. I wonder if Ortega can keep her occupied.”

“Ortega? Who gives a fuck about Ortega! I will kill that witch myself,” Laura screeched as she stormed towards Carmilla and Hector, “And why are you telling him this? He is a pathetic ...”

Laura was suddenly silenced by a backhand from Carmilla that sent her flying across the room and into the stone wall, landing in a heap on the floor. Hector turned away quickly. Laura would never forgive him witnessing this.

“I said, do be quiet Laura,” Carmilla’s voice was dangerously low and her eyes never left Hector. “As I was saying before we were interrupted Hector, continue with your work. It’s important that you remain on task. Although tonight, I think perhaps a little reward is in order, don’t you? You can remain the rest of the evening out of your collar Hector, would you like that?”

“Yes mistress,” Hector whispered, eyes downcast, “thank you mistress.”

“Good boy,” Carmilla smoothed his hair, “run along now.” Hector turned to leave. “Oh and Hector ...”

Hector stopped once more, turning back to Carmilla. “Yes mistress.”

“I always knew you were loyal to me. I didn’t need that witch to tell me.”

“Of course mistress,” he replied. Hector turned and scurried swiftly out the door. He could hear Laura let out a low groan from the other side of the room.

“Shut up Laura,” Carmilla snapped.

It took everything in him not to run for his workroom. He moved quickly down the hall and upon reaching them shut the door. He would have bolted it if he could. Instead fell against the door as he let out great gasping sobs as he struggled to breathe.

“Hector?” A soft voice called from the far side of the work table. Hector jolted up to see Rosaly looking at him with concern. He got up and ran to where she stood, pulling her into an embrace as he cried.

“Hector what -”

“What are you doing here Rosaly,” he cried softly as he wept, kissing her simultaneously, “it’s dangerous. Why have you come.”

“I was worried,” she whispered as her mouth caught his.

He could taste his own tears as he kissed her and lifted her onto the table as she unfastened his belt. This was dangerous. He should not do this. There were no locks to the doors and if someone were to discover them, the repercussions would be unbearable.

Perhaps it was due to the blind fear he felt that evening. Perhaps it was because of the helplessness he felt, imprisoned within these walls,and she, the only bit of light that could lead him through the dark. Or maybe it was just nothing more than a pure primal need for the warmth of another person.

Hector had never been with a woman and he fumbled clumsily at her skirts. It was Rosaly that would take command. When she gently took him in her hand he thought he may lose control right there, but she guided him in her, introducing him to an entirely different world of sensations. He gasped as her warmth engulfed him.

He closed his eyes and lost himself inside her. Somewhere, within the deafening ringing in his ears, he could hear her as she whispered his name. Her arms and legs wound tight around him and he moved against her harder, faster, deeper; till he could no longer tell where one ended and the other began; till he could no longer hold back only to collapse in a pathetic heap on top of her, gasping for air.

Hector buried his face against her breast, still clutching her tightly as she held him. He thought he must be the saddest excuse of a man that there ever was. In the stories, the man was supposed to pleasure the woman for hours, was he not? Impress her with his prowess? Hector was not even certain if he thrust three times before release. And here he was, a pitiful mess, sloppily laying on top of her. Rosaly simply stroked his hair and continued to kiss his face.

“I love you Hector,” she whispered softly.

He knew then. He finally understood. Dracula and the love that drove him to madness. That a something so pure and beautiful could love something so broken and damaged as he. It was all so clear to him now. And it made his betrayal rend at his heart even more.

Rosaly simply held Hector as he wept.


	7. Chapter 7

Sonia looked at her reflection in the mirror. She supposed there was some slight improvement in her appearance. The dresses certainly were fitting better. Especially since she now had someone to assist with lacing them properly. Sonia turned from the mirror to look at the young girl who now sat in the corner, working a thread and needle deftly through Sonia’s clothes.

That had been somewhat of a surprise. She had woken up one morning to find the girl who looked all of about fourteen to fifteen years standing at the foot of her bed. Sonia had almost jumped out of her skin when she saw her. She was a tiny thing. Her long dark hair was pulled back in a thick braid and she had big grey eyes that darted around the room nervously. She had apologized profusely for startling Sonia and said that Master Alucard had insisted that her very first task was to see to her clothing. She was not very talkative either. Something Sonia had discovered during their numerous fitting sessions. But she did manage to pry a few details from her.

Her name was Ada. And she, her older brother Cornel, and a younger brother Henry had recently been employed to tend to the castle and the occupants within. Ada was tasked specifically with seeing to Sonia’s needs. She was to have rooms adjacent to Sonia’s. She would see to her clothing, washing, meals, and any other requests she may have.

Sonia had scoffed at this at first, insisting that she did not need a maid. Much less, forced child labor. She had gone looking for Alucard to find him and tell him. Of course, that led nowhere.

In truth though, Sonia had been rather excited to see another face in the castle aside from her own. The only other friend she had was her four legged one and he only came around at night. That had proved to be quite the scare. When Ada walked into the room and saw him laying next to Sonia in the bed, she had almost fell over. Sonia had tried to reassure her that he was harmless but Ada had only looked at her like she had sprouted a second head. And when Sonia told her that he slept in her room every night, Ada looked as if she were going to run out of the room. The girl seemed to have gotten a little better about him, but her eyes would dart nervously to where ever he was sitting. Sonia supposed she could not blame her. He was a bit large.

Sonia had not been able to meet and of Ada’s family yet. Ada had mentioned briefly about them taking care of the grounds and various repairs to the castle. But that was about all she could get out of her before the girl would clam up again.

Sonia turned from the mirror and walked over to where Ada sat by the window. She would offer to help her but Ada would only give her one of those shocked and dumbfounded looks like she did with most of what Sonia said. 

Sonia sat down next to Ada and looked out the window. The widow was several floors up from the ground but not so far that Sonia could not make out the figures moving down below. There were two. One seemed to be smaller, more child like that the other figure.

“Are they your family,” Sonia asked.

Ada glanced out the window briefly before returning to her sewing. “Yes ma’am.”

Sonia frowned slightly as she continued to look out the window. She had repeatedly asked Ada not to call her ma’am but it never seemed to sink in. She supposed there was no use in asking again now. She looked at the two figures below. They both had dark hair, though the younger one’s hair was cut cropped short while the older one pulled his back at the nape of his neck.

“How old is your younger brother?”

“Don’t know ma’am,” Ada shrugged.

Sonia looked over at Ada. “You don’t know when he was born?”

Ada shook her head. “He’s not my blood relation ma’am. We took him in after his parents died.”

Sonia looked back out the window to the smaller figure below. “That’s awful. How did they die?”

“They were killed ma’am.”

Sonia looked back at Ada who was steadily moving her needle and thread. “Then it’s good that he had you and your family to look after him. Does anyone know who did it.”

Ada gave a little start at the question, causing her to prick her finger with the needle. Sonia got up to look at her hand but Ada pulled away nervously as her eyes darted quickly around the room.

“Forgive me ma’am. I was careless. If you don’t mind I will clean this up and finish in my quarters.”

Sonia did not protest as the girl gathered up her sewing and several dresses and flew out of the room. She knew that it would not help and that it would only make the poor girl even more jittery. It could not be easy to talk about that type of thing and Sonia felt guilty for even bringing it up. She would have to find a way to make it up to her tonight.

With a sigh Sonia walked out to the hallway as she was left on her own once again. She made her way to, what she now called the planetarium. She was not certain if it could actually be called one, but there were giant glass orbs suspended from the ceiling in a pattern that reminded her of the planets so that was what she had settled on. Sometimes, if she were lucky, she would find Alucard in here, combing through the endless shelves of books for answers in regards to her being here. It seemed to Sonia that he was not making much headway judging from the level of his frustration.

Things had become somewhat ... different between them over the last few days after his illness. Her impression of him seemed to change every time she would come across him. One of those impressions she had was that he was never very pleased when she happened to run into him. He became very still and continuously kept his head turned slightly away. He was never rude. He was always quite courteous and polite. Even charming at times. But there was a coldness there, a careful distance that was meticulously maintained. Although, she could not help but think that there were times when it would slip.

She had stumbled across him one night in the library. Her friend had not shown that night and she had been feeling restless, so she got up to walk the seemingly endless halls of the castle when she had seen a dim light from a door. She went into the room to find Alucard looking over a stack of books that almost covered the entire length of the table he sat at, reading by candlelight. She wondered how anyone could see by this light but it did not seem to bother him. She did not say anything and hesitated to enter the room, not wishing to disturb him. She had finally resolved to go when he surprised her by speaking.

“Would you be so kind to retrieve a book for me,” he said softly, never looking up.

Sonia had been so stunned she had stood there blinking for several seconds before looking around to see if he were talking to someone else. If he noticed her surprise he did not let on.

“It is on the shelf next to you, fourth row down ... it has red binding.”

Sonia started as she realized he was talking to her and she was just standing there with her mouth agape. She turned quickly to the shelf and scanned the books, finding a large one with red binding near the far side. She hefted the large book onto the table next to him.

“Thank you,” he mumbled absently, still not looking up.

Sonia leaned against the large chair next to where he sat and looked at the stacks of books on the table. “A little late night reading,” she asked a little to blithely. She immediately felt foolish but Alucard had simply given a little smile.

“A little,” he replied still not looking up from his book.

Sonia felt as if she should leave, she did not wish to disturb him, but she also did not wish to be alone and her fear outweighed her need to be respectful at the moment. “Do you mind if I join you?” She regretted the question as soon as she spoke as she realized her could tell her no. But she was surprised a second time that night instead.

“Not at all. In fact, would you mind getting another book for me. It is at the far end of the table, with the bronze lettering.”

That was how most of the evening went. Alucard would need a book and Sonia would find them. Or, she would do her best to find them at least. She helped him the following night as well, and the one after that. He must have been becoming used to her because during the times she would have trouble finding a certain volume he requested, he would join her in her perusal of books. The shelves were very close together, making the isle a bit tight for two people to navigate. Sonia could not help but notice how he would stand close next to her or how he would place a hand at the small of her back with an almost comfortable familiarity when he would maneuver around her in the narrow isle. But then, it was also quite possible she was simply reading into banal gestures. There were days when she felt as if it were a struggle to maintain some semblance of sanity. She could not help but feel lost at times, a constant feeling, as if she were waiting to wake from a dream. She supposed that from a psychological point of view, it would make sense that she would begin to imagine things.

One night, Sonia had fallen asleep in the large chair at the end of the table. Her internal clock seemed to constantly be askew and waves of exhaustion would come over her at times. She had curled up in the chair, pulling her knees up to her chest and tugging her gown down below her feet for warmth. She was awakened by gentle touch to her shoulder.

“Sonia, we are done here for the night. Go to your room, I will be along shortly.”

Sonia lurched out of the chair, her head still thick with sleep only to stop at the door, suddenly startled awake. What did he say? But when she turned around Alucard was not there and she wondered if she had dreamed the whole thing. When she got to her room her friend was there, curled up on the bed as usual, but sleep came fitfully that night. She must have fallen asleep eventually though because she woke up the next morning to find a very nervous Ada waiting for her to wake at the foot of her bed.

The sun streamed in through the stained glass windows, giving the room a sort of warm orange glow. Light reflected from something that resembled a large prism, causing little rainbows to move along the walls. Sonia ran her hand along the line of books on the shelves as she walked. There had to be an answer somewhere within all these books about those mirrors. There had to be someway to get her back written in here. There were just so many. How could one person ever cover all of this within one lifetime? The outlook was discouraging to say the least.

If only she could just will it into being. Sonia smiled to herself. It was something her aunt would say to her when she was young. She closed her eyes and remembered Maria’s voice in her head. Just close your eyes tight Sonia and think, concentrate, focus all of your energy into what you desire, will it into being. If only it were that simple. Sonia squeezed her eyes shut and ... and what she wondered. Should she pray? Should she wish? In the end she wanted. She just simply wanted. She wanted the answers she needed. She wanted to no longer feel that she was going insane. She wanted to wear some damn deodorant again. But more than anything, she wanted to be home. It was a desire that came from the very center of her being. She no longer wished to feel lost or weak, dependent on the kindness of strangers. Her hands balled into tight fists at her side. Why her? Why did this happen to her? It was not fair. She did not ask for this. She wanted it to end.

The desire that seemed to spark from her center, began to build into flame as her frustration intensified. She could feel herself start to shake and could hear a low thrumming in her ears as her anger builds. She was getting so mad it began to feel as if the room was rumbling as well.

No wait ... the room was rumbling.

A loud booming sound echoed through the room and Sonia’s eyes popped open. The shelves she was standing between were swaying slightly and the rainbows from the prism danced wildly across the walls.

What the hell, she thought. An earthquake maybe? She walked to were she thought the loud boom came from and froze. She was not alone and it was not Alucard.

A tall, slender man stood with his back to her scratching at a head of dark shaggy hair that was cropped short. He seemed to be looking down rather confused at the floor to the large pile of books that scattered there. That must have been the loud noise Sonia had heard. They must have been stacked on the table next to him that was strewn with books as well. The thin man muttered to himself as he crouched down and began to pick them up.

“Hello,” she called softly. The figure hunched over the pile of books looked up and two large blue eyes magnified by thick round glasses blinked at her curiously, making Sonia think of an owl. She only had that thought for a moment though before he jumped up excitedly.

“Ah yes,” he exclaimed, eagerly gesturing for her to approach, “yes, you must be our time traveler. Come, come, please sit, sit.” He began shoving books and papers away before grabbing more and setting it in front him. “Yes, yes. This is, ah, this is most fortuitous coincidence indeed. I was hoping to meet you and here you are. Please.”

Sonia could not help but be amused at the flurry of activity that surrounded him as he cleared the table and at the enthusiasm with which he did it. It was easily the most emotion she had seen from anyone within the castle. She settled herself in the chair as he smiled widely at her from across the table, studying her intently.

“Fascinating.”

Sonia blinked. “Pardon?”

“Well it’s, erm, I just did not expect you to look so normal. I mean, you could pass for any young lady of this age.”

“I’m sorry if I disappoint,” Sonia said.

“No, no, not at all. I just, ah, well I ... I guess I am not sure what I expected. It is not often something like this happens ... well, not ever I suppose, when one thinks about it. So,” the little owl took some of the parchment and grabbed a quill setting it in front of him and looked at Sonia expectantly, “tell me about yourself.”

Sonia just looked at him. “What?”

“Tell me about yourself,” he repeated patiently, “about where you are from. What are things you can do? Your daily life and so on.” Those wide eyes peered at her from behind his glasses.

“Um well,” Sonia began, “I’m from New Orleans-”

“New Orleans,” bird man interrupted, “there is a new Orleans? What happened to old one?”

“Nothing, I don’t think.”

“Then why the new one?”

“Ah, maybe because it is in America?”

“America,” the little bird man’s quill scratched feverishly against the parchment, “what is America?”

“It’s a country. The United States of America.”

“A new country with a new Orleans? Where? Was it conquered or created? Who reigns? What -”

“Whoa whoa, wait a minuted,” Sonia now interrupted. “Okay so, this may take a bit. Let me start over ...”

The next several hours consisted of Sonia stumbling clumsily through what she could remember from her eighth grade civics lessons. She knew it was not very accurate and cringed through most of the conversation. He bombarded her with questions, barely allowing her to get in some of her own. She was able to discover that he was here to help find a solution to her returning home. He was knowledgable with books and with the mirrors but had never heard of one allowing time travel. This had left Sonia feeling rather discouraged. But she also laughed, which she felt was quite encouraging for her mental state. She had laughed and talked more during her conversation with this skinny little man than she had with any other human she had come across in the castle since she has been here. It was refreshing, and for a brief moment, Sonia almost felt normal again.

“And I really miss my phone. Oh I miss my phone so much,” Sonia cried in response to a question he had asked.

“Phone? Ah, yes, that is Greek is it not? For voice ... or perhaps sound ...”

“Is it? I don’t know. All I know is I miss it. I didn’t realize how dependent on it I was. I even still look for it at times.”

“And it was for ...”

“For anything really. Telling time, looking things up, but I guess mainly for talking to people. That was what it was made for originally anyway. Oh! I miss toilet paper too.”

“For talking to people, how ... ah toilet paper? Ah, why? Is there a need for paper in a toilet? Does it allow you to do several things as well?”

“Not really. It kind of has one purpose,” Sonia laughed. “I even miss work.”

“And what was your work,” the little owl asked as he scratched away at his parchment.

“I was ... I am studying to be a doctor.”

“A doctor? Ah, well that’s, hmm interesting,” owl mumbled, “like Alucard’s mother.”

Sonia sat up in her chair. “Alucard’s mother was a doctor?”

“Mmm, yes,” little bird affirmed, “and very knowledgeable in the true science too. Her passing was tragic.”

“How did she die?”

“Hmm? Oh ah, she was burned at the stake.”

Sonia almost fell out of her chair. “What,” she said slowly.

“Ah yes, she was ah, charged with heresy and burned as a witch. A complete load of rubbish of course. But then the church is known for that at times. Quite tragic ... are you alright?”

She sat that there stunned. Sonia had thought he would say illness or plague or perhaps even childbirth, but burning at the stake? And the almost casual way he mentioned it was particularly unnerving. Any kind of normalcy that Sonia had found in their conversation went away rapidly.

Her shock must have registered plainly on her face because the scratching of quill on parchment came to an abrupt stop. Two watery blue eyes blinked at her over the rims of the thick glasses with concern.

“Oh my, erm, forgive me. Of course such barbaric practices would be obsolete by your time, ah for certain. Yes, yes. Unfortunately, it can be a ah, common occurrence in this day and age. Disgusting thing that. A most foul business. Please ah, please forgive my thoughtlessness. I should not have spoken about it at all. Rest assured you have nothing to fear. None would dare to ah, to come into the castle. Most are too frightened of it, what with it once being Dracula’s castle and all. And Alucard would never allow it. You are quite safe here.”

Sonia leaned back in her chair. The owl continued to chirp on about how safe she was but Sonia was no longer really listening. All she could think about was how horrible it must have been to have seen your mother taken away and murdered. She could barely fathom it. What must that do to a person? Sonia thought of the men in forest and how they screamed she was a witch. Had she not escaped would the same thing have happened to her as well?She never got the chance to really consider it though due to the strange little man mentioning something that grabbed her attention.

“Wait,” she interrupted, “what was that? Who’s castle?”

The little man blinked in surprise. “Dracula’s.”

Sonia could not stop her mouth from dropping open even if she had tried. “Dracula. You mean like, Vlad The Impaler, vampire, only comes out at night Dracula.”

“So he is known in the future as well. I suppose it is good the stories endured as warning. Well now, I ah, yes I suppose he did impale a few people yes. But you must understand, Alucard’s father was quite mad with grief. He would have destroyed Wallachia and everyone in it. He had already wiped out several towns with his need for revenge. Alucard truly had no choice but to end him.”

“Oh my God ...” Sonia looked at the little man in disbelief as she sank back in her chair. Alucard had seen his mother murdered and his father gone mad and then had to stop his father by patricide. And to top it all off, his father was a man named Dracula, like from the stories. Sonia knew he was not a real vampire of course. It was simply old legends and superstitions that were later turned into a novel. And yet here she was, bearing witness to the birth of those superstitions and legends. When she thought about it, it seemed quite easy for a myth like this to begin. He was a man living in a castle with a wolf after all that apparently had magic mirrors laying around. Still, the trauma of living through what he had. Not just him either. Ada and her family as well. A horrible death seemed to be the only way to go around here. “How can a person live through something like that,” she mused.

“Oh he almost didn’t,” the owl had gone back to scratching at the parchment with his quill, unaware that Sonia had meant the question more for herself than him. “His father almost killed him.”

“Jesus. So is he all alone?”

“What do you mean?”

“Does ... he have a wife or girlfriend or ... you know, long lost love or something,” Sonia sped through the last part of her question, suddenly feeling very foolish.

“Oh goodness no,” the owl answered without looking up from his parchment. “He has been alone for ah, quite some time now. If not for your arrival I do not believe I would even have had the opportunity to be here. So ah, it would appear I am in your debt,” he looked at her from over his thick glasses and smiled.

Sonia grinned back. “Is there anything else I should know?”

The little man seemed to seriously consider her question. “Well ah ... I suppose that depends ...”

“No. You know what? Never mind. I don’t want to know,” Sonia laughed. She hoped she did not sound manic. “No wait! There is one more thing and then I should probably go.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. What is your name?”

The little owl’s eyes blinked. “Oh my, yes. Ah, forgive me, that’s right. Introductions are in order.” He stood up, walked around the table and bowed deeply before Sonia. “I am Giovanni Rinaldo Gandolfi.”

“You’re Italian?”

“Ah no. I was born here in Wallachia. But I am named after an ancestor who hailed from Florence.”

“Ok then,” Sonia smiled and stood up as well. She did her best impression of a curtsy. “It’s a pleasure to meet you my lord Gandolfi. I am Sonia Belmont.” She straightened from her curtsy to find the little - no, not a bird man, Giovanni - she found Giovanni blinking at her in surprise. Sonia could not help but notice that he had that surprised look a lot.

“Belmont?” he asked.

Sonia grinned. “Yeah. It’s actually Belnades-Belmont but I dropped the hyphen when I started med school. Sonia Renard Belnades-Belmont is a bit of a mouthful.”

“I see ... um, Alucard knows this of course?”

“Of course,” Sonia laughed. She thought that a strange question to ask. Although, now that she began to think on it, she could not remember ever giving Alucard her name even though he knew it. But she must have. How else could he know it?

“Of course, of course. It would be silly if he did not. Ah Sonia, forgive me, just one more question before you go. Ah, have you ever heard of blood born magic?”

“No ... but,” Sonia smiled as the image of her Aunt came to her mind “... it reminds me of something my aunt used to say. She said that the women of our family were irresistible because we’re born with magic in our blood. She was always saying funny things like that. I used to think it was embarrassing but now ... well, now I kind of miss it. I wish she were here ... will you be here tomorrow Giovanni?”

Giovanni gave one of his signature surprised blinks. “Ah well, yes, um I will. I ah, I am here to help Alucard solve the mirror so, yes.”

“Would it be alright if I join you again? Maybe I could help and you could tell me more about the mirrors?”

“Oh well certainly! Of course! I would be honored. I will make some tea.”

“That would be great,” Sonia grinned. Without thinking she hugged the lanky man, which sent him into another flurry of stutters and stammers and began to clean his glasses furiously. Sonia did not care. This was the first time she had actually felt comfortable with someone since she had come here. With Giovanni she did not feel lost or like a burden. He talked to her and that was enough.

* * *

 

Giovanni continued to wipe his glasses as Alucard moved up beside him once Sonia was out of the room.

“I ah, suppose you heard our conversation,” he asked as he held his glasses up to inspect them in the light.

“Yes,” Alucard answered softly.

“You failed to mention her sire was a Belmont.”

“I did not know,” Alucard sighed.

“How could you not know?” Giovanni asked more curiously than incredulously. He was just making sure he had all the variables.

“She never told me,” Alucard replied.

That answer only left Giovanni with more questions. He inspected his glasses once more. “Then how do you know her first name?”

Alucard gave a slight shake of his head as he pinched at the space between his eyes. “She talks in her sleep.”

That left Giovanni with too many questions so he decided to abandon it all together. He slid his glasses back onto his face and sat down at the table. Alucard took the seat across from him.

“I could feel the magic all the way down in the hold,” he said.

Giovanni nodded grimly. “It was quite potent in here as well. She ah, has no idea what she is capable of?”

“No.”

“Fascinating ... and perhaps a little dangerous.”

“I am aware Giovanni. That is why we must find how to send her back as quickly as possible. Does her name change things?”

“Ah yes. Well, I am not certain,” Giovanni shrugged. “We would have to determine whether or not she is truly related to the Belmonts of this time ... and I have to admit, I believe the chances to be good. But then it also raises more questions as well. One that keeps coming back is whether she was sent here on purpose. What are the chances that a person with the same surname returns to one of the most volatile times in her ancestors history? Seems to ah be a bit more than coincidence, don’t you think?”

“I am beginning to think that way yes,” Alucard agreed.

“And she was quite interested in you.”

Alucard looked at Giovanni. “You are not to tell her what I am Giovanni. I do not think she is in a condition to handle that yet, do you understand ... you haven’t told her anything have you ... Giovanni?”

“Ah no, well not entirely, and nothing relating to the nature of who you are” Giovanni went on rather hurriedly as Alucard became visibly tense.

“You mean she does not know I am a vampire.”

“Not from me, no,” Giovanni said, trying to sound as confident as he could while simultaneously going over the conversation he had with Sonia in his head. He kept his head down and scratched away at his parchment. “She is quite pretty isn’t she?” When Alucard did not answer Giovanni looked up to find him staring at him. “You ah, don’t think so? I mean I um, well, I found her to be quite pleasant to look at. Her face is very evenly proportioned I must say. And she is very easy to talk too. And the things she told me about the future! Did you know that they have a device that allows you talk to anyone in any location and look up information on it and see images?”

“We have that as well Giovanni, it’s called a distance mirror.”

“Oh ah well, yes you can do that with a mirror. But can the mirror the knowledge of all of these books and help you find specific information with just a question? And they have horseless iron carriages that can take you to any destination you wish to go to as well.”

If Alucard was impressed he did not show it. Giovanni wondered if anything could really impress him. He simply stood up and began to walk towards the door.

“Do not let her distract you from the task at hand Giovanni. Remember why you are here,” Alucard called over his shoulder, only to pause upon reaching the door. “Oh and Giovanni, I will see to the tea for the two of you tomorrow.”

Giovanni blinked. “Oh ah, why thank you Alucard. Ah yes, that would be nice.”

* * *

 

Alucard made his way down the hall and towards the main entrance to the castle. He was becoming too familiar with this girl damn it! Spending every night in her room was clouding his judgement and distracting. Sleeping there every night, he knew every part of her body. It was difficult not too, what with the way she enjoyed walking around with no clothes on. This familiarity was carrying over to his human form as well. He would find himself unconsciously touching her in a way one would when intimate with another. One night he had even slipped up so far as to tell her he would be in her room shortly. He was acting a fool with this girl. It was her blood that was muddling his brain. The magic that flowed within her veins called to the vampire in him in an almost primal way. Had he not been half human he wondered if he would have been able to restrain himself at all. And now there was the serving girl to contend with. When she saw him in Sonia’s room, she knew him for what he was almost immediately. he did not think she had said anything, but who knew how long that would last. He had to get Sonia back to her own time and soon.

He walked outside to find the sun was getting low in the sky. It would be dark soon. He instantly thought that he would have to finish up in the hold quickly if he were to make it back to the castle before Sonia went to bed.

God damn it, he was doing it again.

Alucard stalked down the main stairs into the castle and was about to make his way to the hold when he stopped. Along the far side of the castle stood Sonia who was not alone. She was talking to the mongrel, Cornell. In fact she was smiling at the mongrel.

Alucard’s jaw clenched involuntarily as his hands balled in tight fists. He should be working, not loitering about the yard. And she should be inside, where it was safe. He would rectify this immediately.

But he did not get the chance to, for at that moment he found himself distracted once more by the sound of horses and a wagon approaching. Alucard turned around as a familiar voice called out.

“Allo you sulky vampire bastard!”

For a brief moment Alucard forgot his anger and smiled.


	8. Chapter 8

Sonia walked through the grand hallways feeling better than she had in some time. She even felt a little flushed, almost slightly euphoric. She even giggled. It had felt good to talk, to have a true conversation again. Giovanni reminded her of some of her old classmates, studious and precise. A real stickler for details. It was something she could relate to. Giovanni also seemed to truly enjoy her company. He did not look at her as if terrified or run hot and cold like others. It was refreshing.

Sonia walked out of the main entrance of the castle and followed the path along the perimeter. While having a real conversation had left her feeling exhilarated, her head had begun to ache. She hoped some fresh air would help since the likely hood of anyone having some Ibuprofen was slim. She wondered if there were any herbal remedy’s to be had. There had to be. Perhaps she could find the answers in one of the many books that seemed to line all of the rooms to this castle. She was certain her new friend would be more than happy to help her.

Her new friend ... Sonia smiled at the thought.

The path led her around the castle to a small clearing that looked to have been a courtyard or something of the like, before it split in two directions. One led off towards what Sonia affectionately called the forbidden ruins, while the other looked to head into a garden that led to a large dome shaped solarium attached to the castle. Sonia decided on taking the second choice of the two. She knew how the owner felt about her wandering towards the ruins. She thought it best not to poke that bear.

Sonia made her way towards the garden as her thoughts turned towards Alucard. Giovanni may not have told her much, but it was enough. His father had been Vlad Dracula ... was that even his name? Somehow she did not think his last name was Dracula but she did not know the story any other way. He had been a king, had he not? Would that make Alucard a prince? Is this how the stories started? A war between father and son perhaps. It is a feudal time and struggles for power between family was not uncommon. History is written by the victors, she could very well be witnessing the creation of legend right now. Much like the War of the Roses ... whenever that was ... when was that?

Sonia’s head continued to ache slightly and she plopped down on a pile of stones, regretting how little she paid attention in her high school history class and wishing desperately that she had her phone. She felt a little flushed as well. She hoped that the excitement of finding finally finding someone to talk too was not giving way for a head ache. In her youth migraines would set upon her so fierce that she could be laid up for hours. It had been some time since she had one that severe, but this had all the markings. Sonia took a slow deep breath and rubbed at her neck as she set her focus in front of her.

The path led Sonia to a garden that was not much to look at. She realized that she sat at the entrance of what looked to be an over grown atrium. Vines with dark purple blooms snaked their way along the low brick walls, creating a thick overgrowth at the top. The flowers reminded Sonia of the morning glories that grew throughout her aunt’s garden. Her aunt Maria had called them invasive, but Sonia preferred the term resilient instead. Sonia stood slowly with a stretch and walked over to the nearest bloom. It was not right to call something this lovely invasive, she thought, and bent over, wondering if it would smell like home. She must have still been caught up in the whimsy of her earlier conversation because she did not even notice the pair of large dark eyes that stared at her from the thick foliage ... at least not immediately.

Sonia let out a yelp and leapt back as what ever was in the shrubs scurried away and made a dash for the far end of the wall. It was during that dash that Sonia saw it was not an animal but a person. A child.

He stood by the far side of the wall and stared at her with big dark eyes from behind a mop of short shaggy hair. The color looked to be a light brown, or perhaps a dark blonde, depending on how the light hit it. He did not look to be much older than nine or ten. He wore clothing that seemed to be several sizes too large. His shoes seemed to threaten to swallow up his skinny little ankles and thin little hands played with a small medallion that hung around his neck. He seemed so small to Sonia she thought he must be malnourished. She felt a swell of anger come up at the state he was in. Surely Alucard could afford to provide some sort or uniform or something. Something had to be done about this. She did not care if it would anger him. She looked at the scrawny boy and and smiled.

“Hello,” she called, holding a hand up awkwardly in greeting, “you must be Ada’s brother ...” Sonia struggled for a moment. What was his name? Harry? Henry? She could not remember. “I’m Sonia, it’s very nice to meet you.”

A face that was partly obscured by the wall and partly by his hair, peered out at her. He looked to be on the verge of running. Sonia suppressed a sigh. She could do this. She had dealt with children that had suffered from trauma before. She just had to get him to trust her. She knelt down and sat on her knees, placing herself at his eye level in an attempt to seem as non-threatening as possible, and smiled.

“So, you new here, aren’t you?” The boy’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I am too. I’m still trying to figure this castle out. I’m not very good at it though,” she laughed. “Sometimes I still get lost. This is actually my first time ever seeing this part of the grounds. Do you -”

“Are you one of them.”

Sonia blinked. The boy never moved, still staring from the wall, only half of his face visible. But his body was taut, ready to spring. And the eye that was not obscured by hair or wall, the one that watched her now, was full of what looked to Sonia to be absolute terror. What had happened to this child?

“Am I one of who,” Sonia soothed.

“One of them,” the boy whispered, “like him. Are you one of them!”

“I don’t know -”

“Henry!”

A voice from behind Sonia caused her to jump and spin around where she sat. The boy darted past and latched onto the leg of the man who was walking towards them.

He was a tall, slender young man with skin so pale that Sonia wondered how he did not burn up in the sun. At first glance one might assume that he was frail, but that would be a mistake. The loose shirt that hung from his torso revealed the sinew and muscle that lay beneath and he had a loping sort of grace to his movements when he walked.

Was this Ada’s brother, Cornell? If so she looked nothing like him, nor he her. She realized that the dark hair she had thought she saw earlier from the window was a strip of cloth that had been tied around his head. His hair was a blonde so pale it might as well be white. She watched him as he knelt down and spoke in low voices to the boy ... Henry, that was what he called him. Henry’s eyes darted back and forth between her and the young man in front of him. Sonia could not hear what the man was saying but it seemed to put the boy slightly at ease, although he still nervously fingered at the small medallion.

After a moment, the man stood up and took the boy’s hand as they walked over to where Sonia still sat. They were still talking. The young man she assumed was Ada’s brother Cornell seemed to be answering a question young Henry had asked.

“No, she is not like me either. She is like you ... although ... different.”

Sonia wondered what the hell he meant by that as they approached, coming to a stop to stare down at where she sat. He had delicate features, almost feminine. A soft brow line gave way to an elegant nose and eyes that tilted up slightly at the corners. And his eyes were a striking color of blue too. Almost sickeningly blue. Like a full on Prince Charming, field of daisys, perfect cloudless sky blue. For some reason this annoyed Sonia. What was it with the men of this time and their pretty eyes? You could name crayons after them. Alucard Amber and Cornell blue. Sonia gave a little snicker at her cleverness.

The sound of someone clearing their throat snapped Sonia out of her reverie. The two figures were looking down at her curiously while she had been staring up at them, giggling absently at her self perceived wit. Henry had retreated once more behind the young man and was eyeing her warily. Sonia gave a little start and began to gather her skirts to stand when a hand appeared in front of her.

“If I may, ma’am ....” His voice was much deeper than Sonia had expected, low with a bit of gravel. It was quite the contrast to his delicate features. Sonia looked up at him. His expression could have been a case study in neutrality, but was belied by the subtle amusement in his eyes. Sonia sighed.

“Thanks,” Sonia laughed embarrassedly, gripping his hand as she struggled to free her feet. She immediately began to shake his hand. “I’m sorry, I was just thinking, not staring. I mean, I was staring but I didn’t mean too. You must be Cornell. I’m Sonia. Ada has told me so much about you ... well, not really, but she has talked about you. Once. Very briefly. Today in fact. She talked about Henry too, who I’ve already had the pleasure of meeting.” Sonia looked down at Henry and smiled only to find him looking up at her, no longer warily but like she was insane. Sonia stood there confused for a moment before realizing she was still shaking Cornell’s hand.

Sonia let go with an embarrassed laugh and began to awkwardly brush at her skirts. Her headache began to gnaw at the side of her head.

His bright blue eyes flicked curiously from her, to his hand, and then back to her once more. He pulled the cloth that held back his hair from atop his head, freeing the fine silver strands to fall, barely brushing his shoulders.

“I wanted to apologize for Henry ma’am. I’m afraid he does not do well around new people. It’s something we have been working on, although I feel he may need to work at it a bit more.”

Henry looked down at the ground as he spoke and Sonia felt her heart drop. She hoped she had not gotten him in to any sort of trouble.

“Oh no, no,” she blurted out, “if it’s anyone’s fault it’s mine. I mean, he doesn’t even know who I am. And considering,” Sonia stopped abruptly, having second thoughts about bringing up what she knew of the boys past. She did not think that would help the situation. “Well,” she continued, “I don’t blame him. In fact, I think he’s very smart to avoid strangers.”

“But you’re not a stranger ma’am. You are the lady of the castle, and it is our job to serve you.”

“Oh I’m not the lady,” Sonia laughed, dismissing his statement with an embarrassed wave. “I mean, I’m a lady, but not “the” lady, like a um, royal lady or anything. I’m just an ordinary ... lady.” Sonia winced slightly as she spoke. He must think her some sort of imbecile. She could not blame him if he did.

Dark blue eyes studied her. They were an intense blue. Sonia wondered if they would be considered indigo.

“Then ... you are not -”

“No,” she interrupted quickly, uncertain if she wanted to hear exactly what he thought she was, and irritated that she was distracted by his eyes again. The pounding at her temple began to settle into a steady rhythm. “I’m not anything. Just passing through really. I’m going home soon, hopefully. Alucard is just helping me, letting me stay here until I can get home.”

Cornell gave her another curious look before speaking once more. “Forgive me ma’am. I thought perhaps you were from the lord’s mother’s family.”

“No, no family. No relation. Just visiting,” Sonia’s head throbbed now. Dark flecks seem to appear before her eyes. “Has it got suddenly hot or ...”

“Ma’am!”

Sonia was uncertain of what happened next, everything seemed to have become a blur. She heard the distant sound of voices shouting and Cornell’s eyes. Such a pretty amber color. No wait, his eyes were not amber, were they? A cool comforting sensation pressed against her head. Sonia sighed, drifted off, and dreamed of her mother.

* * *

**~oOo~**

The horses hooves thumped steadily on the hard packed trail. The tall three needle pines that lined the path were starting to give away to the grand old oaks that lined the way to the ruined manor. The trees were becoming older and widely spaced. Black pines forty paces tall and wide-spreading oaks whose branches arched down to the ground before rising again. Thick creepers shrouded half buried boulders and what looked to be old stone outcrops that may have once been a wall. Hard to tell. They were getting close. There were still a few hours till sundown, they would easily make the castle before dark. That was only a small amount of reassurance for Trevor though. He still had his doubts about coming here. It was good that he had Simon stay behind.

Trevor’s head moved slightly to look over behind him upon thinking of his son. It had been a struggle, the boy was stubborn, but he would see the right of it in the end. Although Trevor did have his concerns about leaving him behind unsupervised. The boy could just be a bit too impulsive at times. He hoped that Danasty could keep him check. He had his doubts about that as well. Grant could be just as impulsive. Trevor could not help but be believe that he may have done more harm than good in leaving him.

Not Sypha though. She sat next to him, her arm threaded through his, her head leaning against his shoulder, and an infuriatingly satisfied smile on her face. She had wanted Simon and Grant to join them on this journey for all the wrong reasons. She actually wanted them to meet Alucard! As if they were going to visit just any old acquaintance, without even a second thought to the fact that this acquaintance is a vampire! Sometimes this woman ...

Trevor sighed. Still, there was something right about it as well, he supposed. The trees were spreading further apart as the path became more compact. And with the mountain finches calling out their song, the crisp spring breeze filling his lungs, and a beautiful woman on his arm, in this moment Trevor found it difficult not to come around to her way of thinking.

He supposed some of his reluctance came from the memories of his childhood, if you could call it that. It was strange to Trevor how familiar the landscape remained and yet how little he could remember of the details. He made it such a point to be a strong, stable presence in Simon’s life but his father was nothing more than some hazy memory. Vague images of calloused hands teaching him how to grip a sword or crack a whip. Did he have dark hair? No, no, he had fair hair. It was his mother who was dark. Strange how memories worked. He could barely remember the two people who should have been most important in his life, but the night they were taken from him was as vivid in his memory as if it had happened yesterday. The smell of the fire. The smoke choking his lungs and burning his eyes. His father’s strong arms around him as he carried him to safety and the back of his father’s coat as he ran back into the house for his mother who was heavy with child. The sound of the house collapsing in on itself as the fire raged on. Yes, the memories from that night were never forgotten.

A change of pressure against Trevor’s arm caused him to give a small start as he looked over at Sypha who was looking up at the horizon.

“Look,” she whispered softly.

Trevor looked up to where her eyes were now focused and grimaced slightly. Dracula’s castle loomed before them, casting shadows that must have covered miles in the setting sun. Trevor felt a sudden prickling at the back of his neck and reached around to scratch at it with a grunt. Sypha’s eyes remained on the horizon, but narrowed slightly.

“It looks as if little has changed from when we were last here ...” she said.

“Well, I doubt he’s done much in the way of redecorating,” Trevor muttered as he rubbed at his throat.

“No,” Sypha continued, “I mean nothing’s changed as in time. There is no decay or weathering as buildings do over time. The ruins from the manor have been taken by overgrowth and a general wasting away, but not the castle.”

Trevor squinted up at the castle. “Maybe some sort of magic,” he said with a shrug.

“Maybe ...” Sypha looked thoughtfully up at the castle for a moment before leaning back with a sigh. “I had noticed it when we came the last time, before Simon was born. I wondered if it had been my imagination. Good to know it was not. Somehow, it is able to hold off the effects of aging. It makes me wonder what else it is capable of.”

Trevor’s grip tightened on the reigns as he willed himself not to turn the wagon around. “Best not to poke that bear, don’t you think?”

“You’re not still worried about coming here are you?”

“And why not,” Trevor answered a bit more defensive that he intended. “What with the rumors and what not.”

“They are just rumors Trevor, nothing more. You said so yourself. You even defended Alucard-”

“I know.”

“-you said that Alucard isn’t taking up with a witch-”

“I know.”

“You said that if it hadn’t been for that devil-halfbreed monster, Dracula would still be making meals out of little shits.”

“Sypha!” He always found it shocking when she used coarse language. “I know.”

“Then why are you so worried?”

“I ... I am ... I just am,” Trevor studdered. “Is it really so bloody strange that a man has concerns about taking himself and his wife to Dracula’s castle?”

“But it’s not Dracula’s castle. Not anymore.”

“I realize that. But the memories tend to linger.”

He could feel her eyes on him, silently studying. “Alucard will not hurt us Trevor.”

Trevor gave a little grunt in reply but would not look at her. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye a couple of times but he would not look at her directly. She had a way about her. A way of knowing what he was thinking just by looking at him. He was not certain if it were magic, but he hated it. Because right now he did not want her to know. He did not want her to know that he himself had no idea why he was so uneasy.

He could not find the words for how he felt. Something was lurking in the shadows, some threat. Did he believe that Alucard would hurt them? No. He did not believe that at all. Alucard is not the monster his father was. A melodramatic git, yes. But not a monster. Alucard did not even drink blood as far as Trevor knew. He was half human and therefore was able to get sustenance from human food. It was not a necessity to survive. No, Trevor did not feel Alucard was the threat.

And yet something gnawed at him, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand. Something was not right, as if things were off balance and Trevor was uncertain of what sacrifice it would take to even the scales once more. He likened it to walking along a dangerous cliff where the ledge threatened to crumble with each step while he kept adding weight onto his person. He had had carried this burden before in the past, but was heavier this time for now Sypha walked the ledge as well.

And Trevor would not, under any circumstances allow Sypha to be sacrificed.

After a moment there was a slight shift in pressure next to him once more as Sypha readjusted her seat and leaned her head against his shoulder. “Alucard would never hurt anyone. He is not a threat.”

Goddammit she did it again. Trevor grimaced and flicked the reigns irritatedly.

The wagon rumbled on for a short while before the treeline gave way completely revealing what had once been a large court yard for the manor but now was path to the main entrance of the castle. Looking to his left, Trevor could see an area where it looked as if some sort of construction was taking place. It only took a second for him to realize that it was the large opening that led down to the Belmont hold. Had he left that open all these years? The stairs leading down below had never been repaired, making it all but impossible for any ordinary human from getting in. But then Trevor was not worried about ordinary humans. They were not a threat and if they were, they could easily be dispatched. No, it was the unordinary visitors that were of concern.

The wagon moved past the construction and towards the castle now. As they rounded the corner they could see a figure moving from the entrance in the direction of the far side of the castle where several other figures were. Trevor did not recognize the small group of people. It looked to be two adults, a man and a woman, and a small child. They must be some of the villagers that had taken up work around the castle. But the single figure heading toward the three he recognized instantly. Tall, blonde, and haughty. Every long strand of hair on his head fell perfectly arranged down his back and not a speck of dirt on his impeccably white shirt.

Trevor could not help but chuckle. Did that snobby vampire shit not own any other type of clothing?

“Alloo you sulky vampire bastard,” he called out, grinning in spite of himself.

The tall figure stopped and turned around, a look of surprise plainly visible before being replaced with what Trevor thought might have been a small smile. The wagon rolled to a stop to where Alucard now stood with his arms folded across his chest.

“Trevor Belmont,” that silken honey voice that grated Trevor’s nerves so much drawled out, “you’re timing is impeccable, as per usual.”

“Careful Alucard, that almost sounded like a compliment.” Trevor leaned forward, resting an elbow on his knee as he looked down at Alucard. “Well you haven’t changed a bit. Still look like the same prissy little vampire I remember.”

“And you,” Alucard purred coldly, “look far older than I thought you would. The years have not been kind Belmont.”

“Hey now-” Trevor began indignantly but did not get to finish for, at that same moment, Sypha came running around the side of the wagon and wrapped Alucard in a fierce embrace.

“Hello my friend,” she whispered softly.

Any cold haughtiness Alucard had been affecting towards Trevor melted away as he embraced Sypha back. He looked down at Trevor’s wife, his eyes shone with affection.

“Sypha,” he smiled warmly, “you are as beautiful as ever. How you flourish under such horrid conditions is beyond me.”

“Oh conditions are not all that horrid Alucard. At least not lately. He even bathes regularly now.”

“My, my. Will wonders never cease.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Trevor interrupted as he jumped down from the wagon and pulled Sypha next to him. “Remember who’s side you’re supposed to be on.”

“Don’t be silly Trevor,” Sypha chided playfully.

“It’s alright Sypha, insecurity is common in men as they enter old age,” Alucard reached down and took Sypha’s hand and brought it to his lips with a mischievous wink. “Just know that if you ever feel you need a change pace, my door is always open.”

“Now just wait a minute-”

“Well it’s funny you should say that Alucard,” Sypha interrupted, “because I, well, we need your help.”

Alucard arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yes, I’m sorry my friend. I wish this were just a friendly visit but we are in need of information. Information that I think can only be found either in the castle or the hold.”

“Has something happened,” Alucard asked.

“Not exactly,” Sypha answered, “at least not yet. I just have questions Alucard. Some of which I think only you may be able to answer. But something is happening. I’m just uncertain of what.”

“Hmm,” Alucard rubbed at his chin, “there seems to be much happening at the moment, creating questions that not even I can answer, but of course I will do what I can. Whatever you need Sypha. The hold and the castle are always open to you ... and this lout too.”

Alucard had thrown that last bit in as a dig at Trevor, but he did not notice. He had been too busy watching the scene that was playing out behind Sypha and Alucard as they had talked. There was a man and woman and a child, as Trevor had noticed when they first rolled up. But now the woman seemed to have collapsed against the man who was now cradling her.

“Say uh, Alucard,” Trevor said, looking over Alucard’s shoulder, “I heard you took on some servants from the village for the castle.”

“Unfortunately yes. I will have them prepare a room.”

“Might have some trouble with that. Seems one may have taken sick,” Trevor looked at Sypha. “Maybe we should just stay in the wagon.”

Everything that happened next happened so quickly that Trevor was uncertain in what order it all happened in. One moment Alucard was standing next to them, and suddenly he was across the clearing and holding the woman in his arms after throwing the young man who had been holding her across the lawn.

Trevor and Sypha ran up in time to see the young man crouched down in an almost animalistic stance, emitting a low threatening growl. While Alucard stood cradling the young woman protectively in his arms with a hiss. Sypha ran to check on the child who now stood terrified as Trevor ran between the two men with his arms raised.

“You are not to touch her,” Alucard hissed angrily at the young man.

“I was trying to help her,” the young man growled back.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Trevor shouted as he stood between them. He looked at the young man and froze for a second. He looked normal at first glance, not much older than Simon maybe. But upon closer inspection he noticed that the young man’s fingers had elongated slightly and were now curved into sharp claws and that several of his teeth had taken on pronounced points. A changling, Trevor thought. I am standing between a fucking vampire and a changling. Bloody fucking hell. “Let’s all just calm down a second here. What the hell happened?”

At that moment Sypha approached leading a young boy by the hand. The presence of the boy must have triggered something for the changling for when Trevor looked at him again, his fingers and teeth were now normal.

“Forgive me my lord, my lady,” the young man bowed slightly to Trevor and Sypha. He held out his hand and the boy ran to him, hiding behind him. “The lady and I were talking when she suddenly took ill and fainted. She had just fallen over when,” the young man stiffened slightly and set a cold look upon Alucard, “when the lord came over.”

If Alucard noticed the changling’s disrespect he did not show it. He was too busy looking at the young woman in his arms. Sypha walked over to where he stood and took the young woman’s head in her hands and closed her eyes.

“She’s burning up,” Alucard whispered. Trevor could not help but notice the concern in Alucard’s eyes. He was truly worried about this girl. It was perhaps the first bit of emotion he had seen from Alucard since ... well, since ... before his father died. 

Sypha’s eyes snapped open. “This is no ordinary fever,” she said looking at Alucard. “What is she?”

“She is Bloodborn,” Alucard replied softly.

“Bloodborn,” Sypha gasped.

“Bloodborn?” Trevor echoed. He looked at the changling who’s eyes had gone wide upon hearing that. Trevor looked back at Sypha.

“That’s impossible Alucard,” Sypha said in disbelief. “The Bloodborn are extinct. They were hunted to extinction.”

“What the hell is Bloodborn,” Trevor called.

“By my father, yes,” Alucard snapped, ignoring Trevor. “And yet somehow she lives. Can you help her?”

Sypha’s brow furrowed as she looked at the girl in Alucard’s arms. “I don’t know,” she said pensively. “Come. Let’s get her inside.”

Trevor watched as Sypha followed Alucard who was carrying a sick woman in his arms into the castle. He turned to look at the young man but he was already halfway across the yard with the boy. Trevor raked his fingers through his hair and stifled the urge to yell. After a moment he walked over to where the horses stood, still hitched to the wagon. He reached up and scratched old Bette behind the ears.

“You see,” he said to the mare, “I told you coming here was a fucking bad idea.”


End file.
